Whispers
by illarione
Summary: He has done this million times but it always takes me by surprise. No notes, no calls, no texts, I was just left there, hurt and confused. But I'll welcome him again, no matter what. He knows I can never resist him.
1. Chapter 1

Song belongs to Halsey

* * *

 **Chapter 1 - Is There Somewhere?**

" _But your lips hang heavy…underneath me. And I promise myself I wouldn't let you complete me_." Closing my eyes, I can hear the crowd goes crazy. I smile, a sad one, I must refocus uncountable times tonight, not allowing this shitty melancholy feeling crawl out of its hidden place.

" _I'm trying not to let it show that I don't wanna let this go. Is there somewhere you can meet me_?" My voice is smoother when I continue, as to the sound of pray. I look down towards the audience, gloomy, holding the stand mic as if I will fall anytime. " _Cause I clutched your arms like stairway railings. And you clutched my brain and eased my ailing_."

" _You're writing lines about me, romantic poetry. Your girl's got red in her cheeks, 'cause we're something she can't see_." Mind is flooding with the images of _him_ , the reason I wrote these damn lyrics in the first place. Man, I hate singing this song. " _And I try to refrain but you're stuck in my brain. All I do is cry and complain because second's not the same_."

I take a deep breath, ready for the very last lines. That is, always being the hardest part to sing, seeing my current situation, trapped between memory and reality. Till this point, I'm still the same miserable woman I once had. " _I'm sorry but I fell in love tonight. I didn't mean to fall in love tonight. You're looking like you fell in love tonight. Could we pretend that we're in love_?"

Fucking finally.

"Thank you! Thank you so much, Vancouver!" I shout, but it can't beat the cheer of the crowd around me. "I love you guys! Thank you for coming!"

I exit the stage wearing this wide smile on my face. Alice hands me a white towel as soon as I hit the backstage. "Oh goddamn it! You killin' it!"

"Thanks." I smirk as I take a gulp of water on the table, curing my thirst. She lifts an eyebrow, and I just know what to come from that poisoned mouth.

"Almost slip a tear, though." She snickers evilly. I roll my eyes in annoyance. We had this conversation at every show I held, but I can assure her she won't have it this time. Not that she will give in. For all I know she is a persistent motherfucker. "He called?" Her tone was thick of curiosity, but I also could hear concern in it.

"Not that it's your business, Mary-Alice." She huffs loudly of the name. Calling her like that means you have declared the flag of war. And shit, silly me, I just realized it the moment it escaped my lips. I'm damned.

"Well, I take it as a no. Have you seen the news?" Alice asks innocently. We know where this talk goes to. And I'm fully aware what her true intention is. The more her words hurt me, the more she cares. She just wants to slap me as hard as possible, pulling me out of this stupid hope. Telling me _he_ is up to no good since the day I met _him_. "He confirms to the media he has dated Tanya for six fucking months." I close my eyes briefly. This lump in my chest is throbbing in agony.

"I know, Al. I've seen it." Her expression is almost sorry.

"He's a bastard, Bella. And will always be. Don't let him toy you any further." It's still the same advice, and still merely in and out my ears.

"I need a drink." She shakes her head sadly.

.

.

.

I'm back to New York not after two other gigs. Alice hasn't mentioned him again since that night, probably because she didn't want to open the old scars. Or I was that pathetic she didn't have the heart to add more damages. I drag my feet to the elevator in my building, physically and emotionally exhausted, eager to make it to the bed soon. I once shared the apartment with Alice, but about three months ago she has moved in with her boyfriend, Garett. I thank God for this little peace. Unlocking my door, I step into the room and turn on all the lights. I always hate darkness.

My apartment isn't too big and far from luxury. But it doesn't mean to be bad, though. It was clean, tidy, and consists of two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, and a small living room. The decoration is minimal, nothing extravagant. White is all I can see. I love it. I like neutral colors. Boring, I know, but it calms me, especially white. The only things that aren't white are the electronics, couch, and my kitchen. They are black.

I sit on the sofa, then untying my sneakers. It has been a long tiring week and I get no work until the day after tomorrow. Yeah, I can absolutely sleep for hours. I wash my face and brush my teeth. Taking off my jeans, it joins the mountain of dirty clothes from my suitcase. I only wear loose tank that barely cover my panties. The best sleepwear ever.

The second I open the bedroom door, my hand immediately goes to turn on the lamp. The sound of groan is the reason why I stop dead in the halfway. I'm so near to scream. But I don't. Because I know, my body always knows, we're like the opposite of the poles, pulling at each other. At least, _he_ is to me. I just stand dumbly at the sight until _he_ finally opens his beautiful shade of green eyes and meets my gaze. _He_ rustles between sheets, trying to get up from his shirtless glory. I can't help but stare. His naked tattooed torso is the best healing of my tiredness. The crooked smirk appears.

"You home?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" is all I can say. It sounds weak and frustrated, not the way I intend to.

"I want to meet you." He replies simply, no trace of lie on his face. I don't know, maybe I can never detect it. Or I'm just slave to his game.

"You didn't call." I state to no one particular. My voice betrays me.

"I'm here now." Always doesn't have the care in the world, the selfish bastard. He runs a hand over his bronze hair. My eyes follow the movement. It has grown much longer he can use a hair tie. "Come." He pats the empty space of the bed beside him. My bed. But he seems like he belongs there. "Save the fucking talk in the morning. It's two a.m. and you look like you'll collapse in a second."

He's right. When is he wrong in my eyes?

The words that come out of his mouth never fail to compel me.

.

.

.

I wake up alone at twelve thirty. He has done this million times but it always takes me by surprised. No notes, no calls, no texts, I was just left there, hurt and confused. But I'll welcome him again, no matter what. He knows I can never resist him. Alice will flip if she knows about him coming last night. Not to mention she'll likely label me the fool of the year for not taking back my apartment key from him. The universe knows I won't do such a thing.

After I open the curtain, I go out of my bedroom, towards the kitchen. My eyes widen to find him sitting on the barstool, only wearing black and white Mickey Mouse boxer. But believe me, seeing him like that, won't lessen his manly charm. The inks all over his muscled body stand out beyond anything. A cup of tea on his hand, while the other holding a cigarette. His mother is English. And he lived a couple of years there, enough to make it a habit.

A childlike grin spreads across his handsome face as he acknowledges my presence. I want to kiss him. "Had a good sleep?"

"You're still here." It's not a question.

"Of course, I am. Where would I be?" he turns his head to the side. I inhale sharply, holding back a bitter laugh. His sweetness never fades. He could tell any girl they would be together forever and she would believe it. Never realized he intended to leave her the moment he said the words.

"Did the papz—"

"No." He cuts off before taking a long drag. "I wouldn't mind if they did, though." Nothing in this world is worth his mind. Sometimes I wish the papz found their way to photograph him enter my building just to see if he'll remain this calm. Unluckily for me, the bastard has everything on the map. It's all covered. No one ever knows. It's just us and Alice.

"Oh."

"You don't seem happy to see me, _Ysabel_." I cringe as he calls me by my stage name. "C'mere." Butt out his cigarette and gesture me into his lap. "I'll be out of states until next month." Of course, being a Hollywood heartthrob right now, he should be in the other continents, doing some world tour. His second album has been a massive success and critically acclaimed, making him a sudden millionaire in a week. I could remember he was so busy, headlining the stage here and there. Award after award were collected. Fame kisses him in the face. Since then, the papz barely leaves his side. And just three months ago, he dropped his third one and has had four songs on the Billboard Hot 100 chart so far. When I'm struggling to get one.

"You can't be here, Edward." I say so low I'm sure he can't hear me. Eyebrows furrow, daring me to continue. "You're with Tanya." He chuckles, darkly.

"Which shitty gossip website you're reading right now?"

"You confirm it." I accuse harshly, out of the frustration. He shakes his head, laughing.

"I don't do it. I have told you those website aren't more than fucking trashes, Bella. Stop reading them." I step back as I watch him get up from the barstool. The closer he is, the stronger he can affect me. Which means the easier I trust his words. Although deep down I know it seems a bit untrue. "Many women have thrown themselves at me, but I keep coming to you for all these four fucking years. Only you. Before and after the fame comes between us, it's only you."

 _But you also keep leaving me as you like and will be spotted kissing the other woman the next day_. I'm scared I'll be crying if I say it out loud.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why you keep comin' to me?"

"You want me to stop coming to you?" typical Edward, answering a question with a question.

"Then, deny the fucking rumors." I say instead, escaping the previous question. He's quiet, keeps his mouth shut. The bastard will never do that, I know it very well. So, why I do bother asking him in the first place is beyond me. I'm a fool.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks after minutes of silence. I'm not aware he's in front of me now. His knuckles graze the side of my face. Greens meet blues. I part my lips slightly as he closes the gap between us.

No permission needed, he's always allowed to do anything to me. The kiss is slow at first, but turns wilder the moment I moan. He grabs my ass and lifts me as I have no weight, makes me holding his shoulder before locking my legs around his waist. Our lips are getting hungrier, full of yearning. I yank his hair backward when he starts kissing down my neck. We stop in the mid air. Those greens are searching for something in mine. I know he can find it, but he doesn't say anything. "Edward…" I choke out pathetically, holding back a cry. "I'm in pain."

.

.

.

I wake up alone for real in the morning, naked, a mess. He leaves again without a single word. My eyes are fucking puffy, like someone just punched me on the face. Poor me, it's a lot damn worse than that. I'm shattered. Crying doesn't help anymore. If not because Alice has warned me to come to the studio, I wouldn't have come. I have lost my mood, but we're between talks of my second album.

I relax a little after the cold shower. Wearing the best white shirt, faded blue jeans, and a pair of black suede boots, I'm heading to the studio by taxi. It isn't too big in the middle of New York. Still, it feels like a second home to me. I composed and recorded most of my songs here, drowning my wounds in lyrics.

"You're late." Alice crosses her arms over the chest as soon as I enter the room. There are some new faces I don't recognize sitting beside her.

"My bad, sorry." I apologize.

"Something happened to your eyes?" the look on her eyes is suspicious, find me have my shades on. I shrug casually.

"Long story."

"Okay." She finally sighs. We surely have unfinished business here. She won't let go of me that easily. "Bella, let me introduce you to Jasper Hale," she gestures to a blond-haired man on her right. He is lean and tall, charming, calming. His blue eyes are paler than mine, remind me of the sky. "Amber O'Neill," she has this unique short platinum blonde hair with some dyed pink strands. "And Leah Clearwater," Alice mentions the long black hair woman with the cold look.

I shake their hands one by one. "Nice to meet you, I'm Bella Swan." I may not know the faces, but these familiar names catch my attention, specifically Jasper Hale. And I nearly pass out when the realization comes to mind. They all are those _talented_ songwriters, the ones who produce albums for big recording company and mostly, famous singers. How can they be here, in Cullen Records, some random independent label? It's impossible they want to produce an album for indie pop artist like me, right? Don't get me wrong, I have a strong fan base and have already held concerts in many cities, but this is just… unbelievable.

"Yeah, Bells, they come to produce your new album." Alice grins wickedly.

"Holy fucking…"

"I'm looking forward to work with you." Jasper laughs at my expression.

"What have Carlisle done to make you agree?" I ask him, still shocked and all.

"I don't do anything!" Carlisle Cullen, the owner of the label, yells from outside the door.

"Like hell you…"

"Actually I was the one who wanted to meet him first." The blonde man clarifies. "I greatly put interest in your songs as soon as I listen to them. I hope to make it more beautiful." I stare at him like he grows two head. Alice smacks my elbow.

"Thank you, thank you very much. It'll be a pleasure to work with you." I think I wanna cry again.

.

.

.

"So." Alice starts. I know what's coming next. "Something's off."

"What?" I don't turn to her and busying myself on magazine I'm not honestly reading.

"I don't want to ruin your happiness, but I must ask you this." Her gaze bores to me through the mirror in front of us. I flip the page as if I didn't hear her. "What happened to your eyes back then you were wearing the shades all day?"

"Dark circles."

"Yeah, dark circles, how stupid I am really!" she spoke out sarcastically, throwing her hands in the air like crazy. A man that does her hair huffs impatiently as she can't stay unmoved in her place. I exhale deeply. "You didn't meet him, did you?"

"No." My response is almost immediately.

"You're a bad liar, Bella."

"Look, I don't want to talk about this anymore, okay?" I almost beg.

"Fine." She crosses her arms. I never feel this grateful in my life. "You know I do this because I care, right? It bothers me a lot when you have this little sadness in your eyes. And I just hate myself for not do anything."

"It's okay." I smile genuinely, trying to ease her worry.

As if mocking my words, the presenter on the tv brings the hot news. I look up to see. There, clear as day, both of them on the yacht in the middle of the sea, her with small bikinis, hugging him from behind.

I'm ruined.

* * *

 **:)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - Hold Me Down**

"Shit, you're really the queen of depression, are you?" Amber looks down to the papers before her, where are filled by my handwritings. I toy the pencil in my hand, not looking at her direction at all. It's been a week since we work together as a team. I'm surprised we're getting along so casually. They have helped me a lot, especially Jasper. He's genius. Amber and Leah call him Professor.

"Should I say thank you?"

"Can't you write something happier?" she ignores my sarcasm.

"I think depression suit her well." Leah shrugs off while glancing to the lyrics. She barely opens her mouth since the day we met. If we discuss anything, she usually just nods or shakes her head. I roll my eyes. So this must be a very important compliment, thank you very much.

"It has been her type of music, Am. Depression, betrayed, hurt, break-ups… experience's speaking, Bella?" Jasper cocks an eyebrow. I think his blue eyes can penetrate any brain, persuasively drawn everyone to be wide open in front of him. He has been doing that since the very first time we met. Geez, what's so interesting in my life everyone wants to know? I don't need another Alice. Jasper does it much better than annoying lil' evil, though.

"Mostly," I reply, still staring empty at the yellow pencil, I'd be damned if I spilled more. So, he can make you do what he wants, what is it called? Hypnotize? Man, I almost became his new victim. "Besides, the happiness is in the sex part, don't you think?" I dodge perfectly. I can see Amber shakes her head from my peripheral.

"It's a one night stand. How can it make you happy?" she moves to sit on the coffee table in front of me. The moment she opened her mouth, I knew I was gonna love her. She is that bad-ass girl you don't wanna mess with. If she's ever in a fucking clique, she would sure as shit make herself the alpha.

"You don't find happiness in one night stand?" I ask back.

"Pleasure yes, happiness no." She answers right away like a pro she is. Well, maybe. She's beautiful in her kind of way. She could kiss any man with that smart mouth. She's a fire.

"Well, my bad, but I'm never engaged in one. So, I truly don't know." I confess out of the blue. Geez, the hypnotized spell is still there, isn't it? I'm just a second to smack my forehead, realizing my stupidity confession. The three of them abruptly looks up to me at the same time. Their gazes make me uncomfortable. I play innocent. "What?"

"Holy mother, you can't be serious." Amber mutters in disbelief. The look on her face makes everyone in the earshot think I'm confessing my virginity. Yeah, I don't blame her. I mean, we're in this metropolitan city, who knows there's an ancient woman like me, right?

"You…. never? At all?" Jasper seems seeking something in my eyes. Truth, maybe? I shake my head awkwardly. Hell, can it be more shameful? There's a guy here for fucks sake. He may be never looking at me in the same way again.

"Nope. Is it a bad thing?" Still playing innocent. Damn, Bella, you're ridiculous.

"Of course not, it's a very good thing," his amused grin is wider than ever. At least, he doesn't think I'm a weirdo geek or something… yet. "But the way you're writing the songs convince me this is kinda your lifestyle. Sorry for judging." I wave him dismissively. Of fucking course, he thinks that way. Yes, Jas, my life is totally filled with fantasy and imagination. ' _Wake the hell up_ ' Alice always said that at to face. If only they know till this day I just sleep with one man. Because of loyalty or foolishness that I don't have a clue, damn, I don't even get myself sometimes. Remember that bastard makes my heart ache. I wish I didn't end up checking the gossip website the moment I saw the news about them. I think I may be a submissive. All the time being this hurt, but I still survive like it's my pleasure.

We spend the day composing each song. Jasper rearranges them every hour until they reach perfection. I admit he's so damn hard to please. Amber is really pissed when he asks her changing the beat over and over again. I wonder why they can work together all of the years seeing how hot their discussion turns to. I prefer calling it mouth war to discussion. I give hands up for Amber she's not ripping the entire building yet or worse, hit the shit out of Jasper, because if it's me he's yelling at right now, I'll probably have my Docs in his mouth. Leah, the other side, just focuses on her work, looking like they don't bother her at all, while I'm just watching them quietly, afraid my words just add more heat. But of course, in the end they don't get anywhere.

"It's late." Leah glances at her watch. "We should continue tomorrow." Well said in the right moment, Leah.

"Right." Jasper gets up from his seat, stretching some muscles. "Same place same time?" I and Leah nod in unison. Amber is the one who leaves first, not actually saying goodbye. Of course she's not, what the hell I wish for? I'd knock Jasper out of my way, though if I was her. Leah follows her footsteps after mouthing to me _don't worry they'll be okay_. The woman is calm as shit. Hell, how can I do that?

"You shouldn't pressure her like that, you know." I try to ease the tension as soon as we're both left while tying my hair into a messy bun with the hair tie around my wrist. Jasper scratches his temple, looking at me as if I just spoke Aliens.

"What….? Who…?" His expression is almost comical yet so innocent. Man, he doesn't even realize he has upset Amber. Why men can be stupid and don't look less handsome at the same time? They do this every time. It's like a secret weapon or something. "Do you play any instrument, Bella?" The blonde brings his Mac with him to the sofa I'm sitting.

"Yes." I huff for the fact he ignores me. "Piano. A classic one." He seems impressed with my answer, not really expect it. Does he think I can't play a damn thing?

"Perfect. We can add that to the intro. Let's make it real smooth."

"We won't do it right the fuck now, will we?" my tone is impatient. I'm tired. I'd be damned if this daily routine didn't start to bore me. A week full, and hell, seeing him right now I fucking know he's never gonna stop here, not until the album is completely done, at least. I can't hide the stress. Jasper sees it, thank God. He takes a deep breath.

"Look, sweetheart, I hate telling you this but yes, we'll do it right the fuck now." His voice is soothing, but I just don't see it that way. The exhaustion is wearing me out. Again, those eyes are locking mine I think I won't go nowhere until he tells me so. He can be so demanding. I'm trapped.

"Are you always this ambitious?" I blurt. He dares to fucking laugh.

"Do I look like that to you?" I roll my eyes at his cockiness. "Honestly, it's not just about ambition, sweetheart. The fact is we're running out of time. The pressure is great, I admit, but we have to make it." I put so much effort for understanding his words. Huh?

"English, please?"

That smile, again. "I don't wanna sound like an arrogant asshole, but I, we, actually have a very tight schedule. Amber and Leah thought I had gone mad the moment I said I wanted to produce an album for some indie artist, in this case, you. I know they see your potency like I do. Still, the timing is our real problem. We have some big project coming up. Something that is impossible to reschedule or cancel. But, thank God, in the end, they want to give it a try." He winks as I gape at his explanation. God damn it, I'm sorta out plan.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." I mutter under my breath. "Why the hell you want to produce my album in the first place?" this is a mystery I can't solve until now. Maybe Amber and Leah are right. He has gone mad.

"You deserve a bigger name, sweetheart. I can see you were born to be famous. I mean, much more famous than you already are. Our path just has to be crossed." He replies cockily, the opposite of child-like grin which suddenly appears out of nowhere. He's like two sides of the coin with one balances the other, remind me so much of someone. I miss him. I know it's wrong but I do. Why can I just pick a guy and have a true relationship? Alice once tried to throw men at me, models or actors, only to find my rejection. I had the sick mind of guilt. And yeah, no one compares to him. Edward is a sinful devil of perfection.

"So, when is the deadline?"

"Two months till we have to go back to LA."

"Shit."

"I know, right? Move your ass out of the sofa and start making the music, will ya? We don't have time for a lazy lady." I jut out the tongue in the most childish way before walking to the keyboard. Damn, in the end I just follow orders like a dog.

"Why don't we just wait until you finish your project?" I ask while trying some tunes.

"I mean it when I say it's a big project, Bella. It'll need one or two years to finish. I doubt you wanna wait that long."

.

.

.

I work like death's chasing me. Finding someone cares enough about my success in music industry has woken up a sleeping soul inside my body. I keep repeating his words on mind, building the spirit and motivation higher than anything. He has trusted my capability to get this album done before they depart to LA. I can't disappoint him. The mouth war between Amber and Jasper is long forgotten. They tag along just easily as seems nothing has happened. I feel stupid for worrying them. They're friends for years, for fucks sake.

I have made piano chords on three different songs so far and as if the luck on my side, I get Jasper's approval. He mixes the first song with some electro pop musical style. I love it. It sounds like the unforgettable song you don't purposely listen on the radio. He knows what he's doing. The second song is more minimalist. He wants it to stay ballad and only adds the modest beats to blend with the piano, saying it will be losing the strong feeling of betrayed in the lyrics if there is more than them.

Actually, I have been preparing the second album since November last year. I began writing and composing four songs by myself in the middle of the tour. Not long after that, around January, I recorded them at a studio in Chicago. The other five songs are me collaborating with Swedish producers after wrapping mini Europe tour. I came up with the materials then they helped me in composing. The songs were recorded in Stockholm on April. Seeing it now, I feel blessed. I can't believe it, though. I mean, it's the second album! I don't have any idea I'll survive in the industry.

"Bella Swan, stop smiling like that! You start giving me goosebumps!" Amber pulls me forcefully from my thought. I turn to her.

"What? I don't do anything." Do I?

"Like hell you don't. I bet your cheeks hurt right now." She snickers when I touch my cheeks. Damn, she's right. I can feel Jasper's smirk even though his back is at me. The fucker has to pay later.

"Whatever." I roll my eyes.

"I think we should relax a little and finish the rest tomorrow." He says abruptly. I and Amber stare each other, confirming we just heard the same words coming out of his mouth. It's one of hellish moment when a meteor falls across our earth. But Leah doesn't seem surprised at all. Nothing has surprised her, really.

"You didn't eat anything wrong this morning, did you?" I ask in serious tone. I mean, it's only three p.m. And we're usually dismissed at midnight. Crazy, right? The bossy man here always knows how to make our ass suffer.

"You want me to change my mind, sweetheart?" he turns to me with this devilish glam on his eyes. Amber shots dagger in my skull. "Besides, I think we'll get this album done sooner than we expect. It's okay to slow the fuck down right now."

"Hell, how long I wait this day come!" The pink haired bitch pumps her fist in the air, making me chuckle. She's so energetic, reminds me a lot of Alice. Minus the curiosity, though.

Like a fucking telepathy, the evil name appears on my screen. The text is short, yet so demanding.

 _Have a dinner at my place. Bring him._

I snort loudly. She has been playing a matchmaker since the day she landed her eyes on Jasper. Damn Alice and her persistence. Why can't she realize it's all useless trying to find me the right guy? I mean, God, been there done that. I hope Jasper is oblivious with her intention, though. I don't wanna add something to our good team work. Like, awkwardness? Not that he finds me attraction or what. I'm just an average girl whom has shitty tons of emotional problems to deal with.

I wave Amber and Leah goodbye, ready to make my own exit when Jasper calls my name. He jogs toward me, his phone in his hand. Oh no, don't say…

"Alice just texted." He lifts an eyebrow. "Told me we had to have a dinner at her apartment or she would kick some ass. I was even given a permission to drag you by your hair if you refused." When it comes to her, I always want to run as far as possible.

* * *

 **:)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - Trouble**

"Oh, you two make it!" Alice yelps in overly saccharine grin as she finds us in front of her apartment door. I exchange glances with Jasper. He can tell she's plotting something too. Thank God, I don't fight alone. There's a little hope, at least, well, coming out alive from this hell we will go through.

"Of course, we do. How can we ignore your invitation, Al?" I say skeptically then hand her a paper bag with a box in it. "We bring cheesecakes for the desert." This is her favorite which I hope will make her consider showing some mercy tonight.

"Thanks, how kind of you! Oh, and I love the way you said ' _we_ '." The evil winks at me. Shit, she's really playing her game. The blush threatens to arise as Jasper chuckles.

The tour of hell is begun. We enter her apartment and stride towards the kitchen, where Garrett is preparing the main courses in the middle of dining table. Steaks, I can smell it. Holy mother, at least, there's something I'll enjoy. Until now, I don't believe how Alice can be this lucky has him as her boyfriend. I mean, she won't be left starving because damn, that guy can cook like a Michelin starred restaurant's chef. Does she commit less sin than me? Her life seems much easier than mine. Garrett turns to us and smiles so bright it can light up the entire New York.

"Hey, Bella. It's been so long since the last time you came." He greets me warmly before going to Jasper. "I'm Garrett Smith."

"Nice to meet you, Garrett. I'm Jasper, Jasper Hale." Jasper takes his hand to shake. The blonde is two inches taller than him.

"The infamous Jasper Hale." Garrett gives me a knowing smile. Fuck. This is so embarrassing. I can see Alice cover her mouth with her hand, absolutely holding back laughter. I flip her a bird behind Jasper's back.

I and Jasper are seated in on one side while Alice and Garrett are on the other. The view in front of me makes my mouth water. He cooks so many food he can feed a whole town. I take some duck spring rolls on my plate and eat them gracefully not after the householders grab some meatballs. The table is quiet for a minute. That is, before the evil couple attacks.

"So…how is it going?" Alice asks to no one particular. I pretend not to hear her. She's planning something bad, I can sense it.

"The album? It's almost completed." Jasper answers on my behalf, avoiding awkward situation.

"Oh, I'm not worried about the damn album, Jasper. What I mean is both of you." She takes a bite of her meatball innocently, ignoring the look I give. Jasper is calmer than the ocean. I love his composure.

"We're doing great together." His tone is playful, enjoying the conversation. I try so hard not to choke. Alice grins wickedly. Don't ask me how bad I want to hide under the table.

"Really? Is that so, Bella?"

"Of course." Is all I can say. I'm full of shits.

"I'm glad." She nods in approval. I roll my eyes, fully annoyed.

The conversation finally shifts around something lighter, much to my delight, like the meals, the weather, music industry, works, etc. Jasper tells us about how he ends up as music producer to the bad experiences working with some artists. Unbelievably, he started his carrier in such a young age, only fifteen years old. He was credited as a ghostwriter at first, but his works just kept stealing attention. It wasn't until five years later he was really recognized by people in the industry. His production and songwriting work has proven successful commercially ever since. He makes those artists reach the certain level of fame. Man, this guy is gifted.

The talks now continue about Garrett and Alice. How they meet and began dating. The happiness is radiated through their eyes as they remember the day they began to fall in love at each other. I just can't stare at them any longer because their gaze is almost intimate. The way Garrett adores her is envious. Alice is a real lucky motherfucker. So, they met about two years ago in this city. It was the time we were doing some shoots for my first album and Garrett was the photographer. They always said it was love at the first sight. The love between them is undeniable as they speak, lost in the memories. I'm more than thankful as they finish their story.

"Speaking of your name," Garrett turns to Jasper abruptly. "Well, it may sound like a stupid question, but are you blood related with Rosalie Hale?" he asks curiously.

"Do you know her?"

"Not personally, but we've met a few times for Vogue's photo shoot."

"Wait, are you two talking about Rosalie, as in Rosalie the supermodel?" Alice cuts in. Garrett nods. I roll my eyes. Modeling world is like an obsession to her. She once wanted to be one because the evil falls hard for fashion since the day she was born. But knowing her height, well, she doesn't match the criteria.

"Yes, actually, she's my younger sister." Jasper admits with a smirk.

"Shit, I know it! You two are like twins with the same hair and eyes." I laugh at her expression. Dammit, Alice. "Where does she live? Los Angeles or here, in New York?"

"She's travelling a lot, but her main residence is here in New York. I promise I'll visit her in London next week. We haven't met in months." He shrugs casually. I look at Alice, knowing she's thinking the same thought.

"What a coincidence." Her smile widens. "Bella will line up some music festival in London next Wednesday." I'm fucked up.

.

.

.

We have finished three songs in three weeks, just in time before I'm flying to London. We take two weeks off, thank fuck. The world knows I need some fresh air outside the studio. Jasper takes the very same flight with us because of the persistent Alice. I feel bad for him. So, here we are, arriving in Heathrow as trio, I'm sporting leather pants, cropped t-shirt, and a pair of Nike. The papz surround us immediately as we exit the airport. This is just one occasion I'm followed by them. Only in the public places, thankfully. We're heading to The Savoy in the same taxi. God forbid me and Jasper check in the separated hotel. Alice has taken care of anything, poor him. He agreed, though.

"It is obviously not your first time in this city looking how unexcited you are." Jasper pulls me out of my own thought. I push my aviators into my hair. Blues meet blues. He's guessing my mind again, as usual. I let him.

"My second time and I'm not unexcited." I say flatly. He shakes his head and sees another direction, looking a bit irritated. What the fuck ever. I don't get this guy, really. I don't do anything wrong. "What?" I kind of snap because hell, it's been a long flight, dude. I don't have time for this shit.

"Nothing." Of course it just means the opposite. Does he think I'm blind? By the look of his face, the whole world would probably put the blame on me for stealing his puppy.

"Like hell it is." I cross my arms over the chest. His irritation transmits. It sucks. Or maybe I'm just getting my period.

"Alright, it's not your fault you don't enjoy my company." I cringe at his tone. Huh? Why does he sound like we're on blind date or something? Gross.

"I don't understand."

"Same goes for me." The fuck?

"Look, Jasper Hale. Stop pouting like a girl and explain something to me!" I know he sees fire in my eyes. Tiredness and bad mood combined.

"I'm not pouting!" He yells. I don't blame him. My bitchy side hurt his pride.

"So start explaining."

He breathes deeply. Jasper loses his composure? You don't see it often. Those fierce eyes put daggers in mine. "You don't like me." I'm a bit taken back, to be honest. Did he hurt his head somewhere? Because this is possibly not Jasper in front of me right now. He's usually not straight to the business type of guy. No, he's more to full of codes one.

"What makes you say that? Of course, I like you. You're a charming, ambitious, talented guy. How can I not like you?" I blurt, making that child-like grin appear. I don't know how it can suit him this good. He's like, what, almost thirty, old enough to make it appear not cute anymore.

"Really?"

"Yes?"

"You haven't said a damn thing since we took the plane. I think you hate me because I just ruin your trip. My mind keeps wondering why and how. It sucked." Wow. He's thinking of me, of my feeling. Most guys don't do it, right? Edward doesn't. Because he's a selfish asshole and I doubt he will do even if he reads my diary titled _Million Ways You Hurt Me_. He may not wipe a single tear. He has heart made of stone. If that, or he just doesn't care.

"Sorry. Well, that little evil over there just ruined my trip by forcing you to join ours. I feel guilty and shame and I hate this." Alice bobs her head following the tempo of whatever song playing through her headphone, doesn't notice us at all. Jasper watches me warily. I breathe deeply. "I know she's just being nice and care and all, but still…"

"Bella." He cuts me off. "Shit, I don't feel forced, okay?" I open my mouth, but he beats me to it. "Stop being an overthinking bitchy girl. Let's enjoy London, shall we?"

.

.

.

Alice has been super manic since the evening. Unpacking the suitcase and throwing some dresses for me to put on. Over and over says 'DVF or Michael Kors?' meanwhile I don't see the difference between them two except the colors. We have a dinner with Jasper and his supermodel sister, that's why it's been like a rough day for Alice. She wants us to look perfect. Where does she put her brain lately? Rosalie Hale is the goddess of perfection herself. Walking into the room with her, let alone side by side, and people will notice me and Alice as trash bags.

I almost drop on my knees as Alice finishes deciding which dress I should wear. Man, I've been only on my underwear for a half hour. She is a witch. The dress is dark red, no sleeves, a little bit low cut to my cleavage, and fall straight an inch above knees. It fits my body perfectly. I let my long brown hair loose naturally. Alice is wearing this royal blue jumpsuit, stylish than ever, and a pair of match stilettos that goes on forever. How she can walk in them is beyond me. My heels are much shorter than hers. They're just about three inches while hers maybe around five.

Jasper is waiting outside our door like a gentleman as we come out. A real handsome gentleman. He wears a white button down and crème slacks which hug his lean muscled body in the way you can't imagine. But Jasper Hale is no Edward Masen. He may be handsome, charming, and all, still, there are no butterflies in my tummy. It just happens once. It's just for him. My heart, my soul. No one can replace him. Not ever.

I want to fucking laugh our ass off when I realize we're just like the flag of France. Alice snickers, though. The evil can read whatever across my mind.

Chiltern Firehouse is crowded as hell. The blitz is everywhere. Papz are shouting like crazy, British accent. Alice said this place was one of that famous restaurant celebrities around the world often visited and you had to reserve a week or worse, a month before because of the long queue. Even the waiting list had the waiting list. I don't know what the fuck it means. But Jasper saying something about Rosalie got the reservation. Of course, who dares to refuse her?

As soon as we're in, I smell money all over the room. The restaurant is filled by elites, high class people with full of cashes and credit cards in their wallets. Most of them are well known I can greet them one by one by their names. We make our way toward the table number ten, the furthest in the corner where the blonde goddess is sitting. I sure as fuck she's the doppelganger of Aphrodite. Because, hell, Rosalie Hale is a real beauty itself, a bad-ass supermodel, Doutzen and Candice in combined. Alice watches her in awe as she smiles and stands up while I'm practically gawking. She's at least five feet nine inches, slim, but her assets are there. Her hair is golden blonde, like, really golden. One of hair you don't find in saloon. She's born with it because it seems so natural crowning her head. It's wavy, yet so perfectly arranged. Rosalie is wearing a white dress. I've never seen an angel look this sinful before.

I recover as Alice elbows me in the gut. Damn, it hurts. Jasper hugs his sister before introducing us politely. The skin of her palm is so smooth in mine as we shake hands. And don't start with the way she says my name. Shit, Rosalie Hale is absolutely my girl crush. We are seated, I, side by side with Alice, and them in front of us. I order the recommended one here because I don't fucking know a thing. Man, the waiter even gets his hand trembling as he writes our order. It's now called Rose's effect.

"Tell me, Bella, why you seem familiar?" she starts, tilting her head to the side. I'm feeling like a tiny ant under her gaze. My throat is suddenly dry.

" _Ysabela_ is her stage name. With Y." Jasper answers. He has saved me many times. Her face impossibly glows, cute child-like expression. Yeah, they obviously share genes.

"Ohmygod, I love your songs!" she chirps. There are twinkles in her eyes, I swear. "Do you work with her? How can you not tell me anything?" she turns to Jasper, pouting.

"It's out of plan." Jasper shrugs. The corner of his mouth curls up. The different waiter brings us our wine and food, but the nervousness is the same.

"It sounds so unlike you." She continues after the poor waiter has gone. "And the very first time you introduce girls to me." Damn, did she just wink at me? No, not to Alice, I'm sure, but to me.

"He never?" Alice has found her voice.

"Afraid I'll scare them. He says I'm a cold bitch." She rolls her eyes, sipping her wine gracefully before meeting my eyes again. "So, you line up Wireless tomorrow, B?"

"You come?"

"How can I not?" she smirks.

.

.

.

London is hot and Finsbury Park is so freaking full of endless throng of people as I rock the stage. They are screaming and singing along with me all the time, really make my day. Alice insists I wear this little tight cropped white tube and high waisted shorts, too much skin to my liking. The make-up is minimal and I French braid my hair into two parts neatly. After finishing three main songs from my first album, the next liner up enters the stage. Alice gives me high five and a bottle of water when I meet her at the backstage, talking about going to some club tonight.

"Rosalie asked me if you dated her brother." She throws me a smirk, hands zipping up my dress. I roll eyes at that. "She approves anyway."

"I don't date people whom I work with Alice. Damn, look what happened to Rita Ora when she broke up with Calvin Harris. She has been banned singing her song because Calvin is the one who wrote and produced it." I check myself in the mirror before turning to her.

"He won't do that to you if you two break up." She points.

"Who knows?" I shrug. "And it's not like we're interested at each other, though. I don't even know if he's seeing someone. We never talk about that, Al."

"He's single. And so are you." I don't deny her statement.

We meet Jasper and Rosalie at one of luxury nightclub in London. The blonde bombshell waves her hand enthusiastically as her eyes spot me in the room. She practically drags us toward the VIP area. They have reserved a table for us. Jasper gets the drink on his hand. He threw me a sloppy smirk.

"Hey."

"Hey." He makes space for me to sit beside him. "You were so awesome at Wireless."

"You watched?"

"Yeah."

"He's your number one fan, B." Rosalie gives me a wink. "I'll order the drink. What do you want?"

"I'd love to try their signature cocktail."

"Alright. And you, Ally?"

"I come with you."

Bitches, they have intended to do this the moment they saw me talking with Jasper. They are out of my sight in no time, making their way toward the bar.

"I'm going to the dance floor. You coming?" I question. He shakes his head.

"Nah, I'm good." The smile is still there.

I get up from my seat, striding to the center of the club. Dance floor is crowded as hell. The DJ is playing the remix of Icona Pop's song, _we got the world_. I move my body right away, following the rhyme of music. The genre switches into electro house. I hear Afrojack and Steve Aoki's _no beef_ on the background. The sick bass is dropped like a fucking bomb. Hips swaying along the beat, eyes closing, we're lost in our own world, drowning all problems in the process. Tonight is the time we forget. After dancing the next two songs, I walk back to my table. Rosalie and Alice are already there. Blondie gives me my drink.

"You left Jas alone." She points out as if I have disappointed her.

"He didn't want to join me." I defend myself before sipping the blue colored cocktail. It does taste good.

"Yeah, B, but—shit." Blondie curses all of the sudden. She concentrates on something or someone over my back. Blue eyes narrow in disgust. Before I can turn around to see, I hear some sickening sugary voice.

"Fancy meeting you here, Rosalie." She says. Blondie giver her no more than a tight smile.

"Tanya."

Now it's my time to curse.

* * *

 **:)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – Ghost**

Tanya Denali is one of the women you know by a glance you'd never stand a chance. She isn't the model you will see fit in magazines like Vogue or Harper's Bazaar. I mean, with those fucking curves, the entire universe knows her body is more likely made for Swimsuit Illustrated or Victoria's Secret catalog. Well, she is nowhere near as flawless as Rosalie, but hell, with that glamorous tan skin, tities which looks like they'll spill out of her dress any second? No need to tell me, I know where I stand. Of course God forbid Edward leaves her.

Speaking of the devil… the monster himself appears out of nowhere to show up his fake innocence under my nose. He gets this blank expression on that handsome face and I am fucking aware to what he's trying to do. Heart crumbles in different painful ways I unconsciously hold my chest to keep the pieces stick together. Those green eyes are unreachable, distant. In my peripheral, Alice resists the urge to slap me across the face, or anything to break his spell he put in me long ago. But we know. We know even after tonight my craving for him is still the same.

Rosalie introduces us to Tanya. Tanya introduces Edward to us, all out of formality. I drown this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach by taking a big gulp of my drink, draining it so I have an excuse to get the fuck out of here. Giving the love-birds their space to touch each other without getting a jealous look coming from my way. Alice exhales a frustrated breath while Rosalie just looks at me confused. I make it to the bar safely, which means I haven't been a cry baby yet.

No luck.

My tears start to slide down as I drink the second bottle of beer. The bartender notices the silent sobs among noisy hard bass thump in the fucking club. He doesn't give me comfort or anything because he knows I don't need his pity. The view may be way too common for him. Another woman with another fucked up life. A man fills the barstool on my right. I won't lie, a part of me wishes it were him. But the reality bites in the fucking ass. It's blonde hair rather than the bronze I know too well. Blues instead of greens.

Jasper doesn't say anything nor look me in the eye. He just pulls me into his tight embrace, muffle my weak cry against his warm chest. The gesture is caring, I feel so secure. He strokes my hair quietly, waiting for me to calm down. Little does he know I would likely cry twenty-four hours nonstop if it was because of Edward. But after a couple of attempts, the tears finally stop. I look up, touching the back of his hand that is cradling my jaw. Those blues are full of worries. I sigh.

"Wanna go back to the hotel?"

"More like wanna go back to New York." I say.

"No shit." He chuckles. It sounds melodic in my own ears.

.

.

.

I'm awakened between sleeps numerous times with the horror look on my face like I just recalled some traumatic event. But Jasper is there to shush me. Yeah, I'm on his bed. More exactly, on his safe arms. He cares. And he doesn't do anything except hugging me for dear life. I remember he said ' _no, I don't need to add more complications to your life_ '. He doesn't demand explanation or whatever but we're both aware I can't fucking deceive him. He can see right through my bullshits. So, this is why I sleep in his room instead of the one I share with Alice. Damn, I want to avoid the little evil as long as possible.

But I can't. Because we're coming home today.

"Please, Alice. Just… not now, okay?" I practically beg when she is eyeing me from her seat on the plane. And thank God the flight is as peace as I want it to be.

Despite of the painful heart break, days are running fast like a hellish tiger. So I'm back busying myself with recording and all, wrapping the final touch of my album, _Monochrome_ , it's called. I begin the photo shoot with Garrett right after I finished with the recordings. The cover is simple but I like it because it's just so me. The team has decided the first single. Shit, we're even ready to shoot the music video tomorrow. Seth, Leah's younger brother will be the director. I have told him I don't want something fancy or Hollywood-ish. Yeah, not my style. I'm more gangsta kinda girl.

We plan to drop the single on August, two months prior to the released date of the album, which is like less than a month to go. Seth is a cool guy, outspoken, a completed opposite of his sister. He will make me repeat all the scenes if it doesn't match his satisfaction. But hell, he just tries to do his job, doesn't he? Besides, it's not like I can't act like a damn pathetic girl or too shy in front of camera. Shit, instead, I'm afraid I'll be too caught up of my own feeling. The song itself is enough to jab me in the fucking chest only by hearing it.

So, yeah, I thank God for the tight schedule. Edward barely invades my mind. Well, not really, the fucker has booked a special place in my brain.

Amber, Leah, and Jasper have been back to LA, doing whatever project they've signed to. Alice keeps questioning me what's with me and Jasper. I say I don't know. Because it's the truth.

Weeks fly. The day we're waiting for eventually comes. Tonight the music video for my first single will be dropped on my YouTube channel. I'm nervous as hell. But I have no one by my side 'cause Alice has been busy arranging my schedule for months ahead. Miracle happens, though. Rosalie just landed in NY yesterday. And today she agrees to go to the gym with me.

She's all sexy wearing sports bra and tight leggings. Aviators on. Duffel bag on her shoulder. Papz are everywhere, following us. Yeah, since I'm walking with the supermodel and all. I bet they don't acknowledge me. Well, maybe they do, but my life isn't interesting to be gossiped about. No story in it.

"Jasper says hi." We're in little break after doing treadmill. Rose watches me warily as she says his name. I don't really know what she expects me to react. Besides, it's the first time we're talking about his brother in person.

"Yeah, how is he?" I ask. I haven't heard about him since he left to LA. He never calls me and I'm too afraid to call him first. The world knows how busy he can be. He's doing some big works after all and the less I wanna do is bothering him.

"Good, I think." She exhales a weary breath while wiping her sweat with a soft pink towel. "Busiest man in the planet." She grunts. I laugh.

"I guess."

"Ignore his apathetic demeanor, B. God knows he's really into you." She waves, sending me a perfect grin.

"Do you think so?" I lift a brow, which she replies by nodding eagerly.

"I know him for whole life, B. And the way he looks at you, hell. It's different. I mean, he cares about you. So much." She confesses. "Look, B, as his sister all I can say is… don't hurt him, okay?" Her tone is dead serious. "But if hurting him is almost inevitable, just…give him the less painful one." The sad smile on her lips makes my heart drop. I don't say anything. Because I can't promise her a damn thing.

Day becomes blurred. Rose leaves the gym before me because she has business meeting to attend to. So I'm going home alone. No papz sticking around this time. The drive is silent. I decide to stop by to Magnolia for some cupcakes and I also buy some snacks at grocery store. It's near five pm when I finally arrive home.

I slip the keycard on its lock, unlocking my apartment door. The lights are already on.

It just means one thing.

He doesn't try to hide. Because he's there, sitting in the middle of the couch in the living room. Eyes on me. It's been a month since our last unfriendly encounter and two months since the last time he was at my apartment. His hair is shorter. I knew it before because I kind of stalked his Instagram. It doesn't like we follow each other, but still. He looks handsome as ever. And he's here. Again, without attracting papz.

Anger takes over my body instantly.

"I don't time for this, Edward. Leave, now!" I yell at him on the way to kitchen to put stuffs I bought on the cabinet.

"You don't mean that." He gets up, walking over me, unaffected. Because he knows. He knows the lie behind my words. And I explode. I just can't bear it anymore. This is too hurt. I would be shattered on the floor if he didn't catch my fall. I'm in his arms. His hug doesn't feel like Jasper's. I don't feel safe right now. But I know. We know. This is where I belong. I cry. I cry so hard his body is also shaking with mine. The shirt he's wearing is wringing wet.

"Why can't I have you?" I say between sobs. This is not the first time. He always leaves me picking up pieces of my heart alone. And I can't remember when this wicked cycle begins. He comes and leaves while I'm right here, crazy and wounded by situation. By his mean games.

"You have me." He answers calmly. No trace of guilt. He doesn't even bother to apologize. Because just when our eyes meet—without being a cocky confident asshole—he knows. He knows he's always forgiven. It's simply the truth.

"So does Tanya." I say her name in disgust. The universe knows how much I want to put the blame on her even though I'm aware the man in front of me is the one who's responsible causing all of my pain these past four years.

Because Tanya isn't the first. There were Heidi, Victoria, Stella, Irina, Jane… Edward never tells me how much I mean to him. I'm always afraid of the answer.

"No way in hell." He snorts, looking convincing and all. A small part of me believes it. But the sanest part of me screams, refusing to follow his game all over again.

"Does she know that?" I ask, hopeful. Which of course, he replies with silence.

.

.

.

Much calmer me emerges from the bathroom. But the bloodshot and swollen eyes can't be gotten rid of. I've changed my gym outfit into shorts and worn t-shirt. Edward is on the couch, wearing nothing but a Batman boxer. He likes shirtless often lately. I don't know why.

I sit beside him only to find his eyes are glued to the laptop on his lap. He's watching some music video. It's mine. They've released it already?

The song fills the quietness of the room. The lyrics are mocking me.

 _My ghost, where'd you go?_

 _I can't find you in the body sleeping next to me_

 _My ghost, where'd you go?_

 _What happened to the soul that you used to be?_

"You're beautiful." He says, breaking the silence. His index finger touches my face on the screen. I melt. By his gesture and words. "But I don't like the parts saying _'never sleep alone'_ and _'got a million numbers and they're filling up your phone boy'_." He pouts. Like, really fucking pout. I roll my eyes because that's the only thing I can do. "You know that's not true." He defends himself.

"Maybe this song isn't about you." It's a weak reply.

"Maybe." The fucker gives me a sly smirk. He knows. He knows he'll always be my permanent inspiration. Almost all my songs are dedicated to him. But I want to keep the world oblivious. "So, there's no celebration or candles I need to blow?" Green eyes are searching around the room.

His birthday. It was on June, 20. He's 23 now. We passed it 'cause he was on the other continent. Still, we actually always miss each birthday every damn year.

"Nah. I don't prepare anything. But I think I have cupcakes on the fridge." I shrug.

"Do you have a candle?" That smile. The one that nobody can't possibly resist.

I roll my eyes before getting up and striding toward the kitchen. He tails behind. I find some cute pink candles there. I bring out all of the cupcakes I bought only to put them on the plate, sticking a candle to each cupcake. Edward lights up the candles one by one before smirking at me. He looks carefree, a normal Edward I used to know. Not the infamous Edward Masen. And definitely not the asshole that pretended we were strangers.

We're wasting no time to sing happy birthday together, grinning like fools. For now, nothing actually matters. It's just me and him. Edward and Bella. As simple as that. He blows all the candles before capture me in his arms. We're giggling like crazy when I realize he carries me out of the kitchen toward the living room. I miss his laughter. I miss us like this. Dammit, I wanna cry again. After spinning me in the room till we're fucking dizzy, he finally settles us down on the piano bench with me on his lap. My legs are tangled around his waist.

He brushes my hair off my face, then stare. Deep into my eyes. So intense I almost divert my gaze away. I can't, though. Those greens only pull me closer. This is neither awkward nor uncomfortable. It's just… too open. I feel naked under his gaze. It's like he unfolds me, peeling my skin slowly only to find what's underneath. My real emotions. Pain I've been going through. He wants to understand it. Feel it.

I break the incantation from his eyes. Stupid movement, I know. But I'm not ready. Will never be.

I look down to his left shoulder while his eyes are still watching me. Those hands ghost over my exposed thighs. He opens his mouth, but none of the word comes out.

"Why don't you play something?" I motion to the piano behind me, intend to lighten the mood.

"I…." He tries again.

"It's okay."

We know it's not.

.

.

.

I wake up with the room still so dark. And the hot breath across my naked chest. He always insists we're sleeping with the lights off. I hate him the most for that. One because darkness is kinda my enemy and two because I just can't say no to him. Looking around, it looks like it's barely past midnight. But the fear that is suddenly flooding my veins is enough to make me wide-awake till the morning. I don't want him to leave again. My grip on his hair is unconsciously tightened. He stirs in his sleep.

No need to wait any longer when those emeralds flutter open. He lifts his head and blinks at me with that sleepy cute face. "What time is it?" He yawns, getting up to sit on his side of the bed. My body misses the contact almost immediately.

"Don't know." I shrug.

He turns the bed lamp on without warning. It blinds my eyes for seconds. "Sorry." He mumbles, chuckling. I smack his arm. "Damn, it's still three in the fucking morning. Why did you wake me up this early?" He catches my wrist and pulls me to him abruptly.

"I didn't." I argued, blushing when my nipples harden against his exposed torso.

"Yeah?" His nose brushes my temple in a sweet way. The lips follow. Making me lose my voice. "Mmm, what are you doing to me?" He mutters without actually asking. My index finger draws circles around his collarbone. Anything to distract me from his presence. From the thought of him leaving. From the thought that this won't last as long as I hope to be.

I breathe out shakily as he nips my bottom lip just softly. The gesture is too much, telling us bluntly that whatever we have between us isn't merely physical. In the moment like this, I know. Edward is the one, selfishly marking my heart to claim it as his own. The reason I can't let anybody in without some inner conflicts.

"Did you miss me, sweetheart?" He asks out of the blue. Lips hovering mine.

"Always." I reply, not even try to lie.

"I missed you too, you know." He whispers it like it's his darkest secret.

"I know."

"No, you don't." The way he murmurs on my ear makes me shiver. It sounds harsh and demanding. As if he is hiding more truths than I can imagine. As if he is weaker than how he looks like. As if he's just as suffered as me. Maybe I'm exaggerating. Some wishful thinking.

"Tell me then."

"It's hard…being away from you." He confesses, exhaling deeply while putting his arms around me possessively. Emphasize the words.

"So don't." I choke out.


	5. Chapter 5

Song belongs to of Monsters and Men

* * *

 **Chapter 5 – Love Love Love**

The past month has been reaching the point when my whole life has been totally—dramatically—changed. I don't know how I should respond to this because I'm kind of still learning, you know. It's not like I'm not a grateful human being or something, but the side effects of this sudden outburst are larger than I have anticipated. Now I know what it feels like to finally give up something as crucial as freedom to something more…attentive. Okay, maybe I just over react about the entire idea, but really? You sure as hell don't have anyone—may I add with the fucking cameras?—waiting for you all day outside your apartment only to say _'how are you'_. And…you clearly don't have your make-up free pictures all over the internet only to read mean comments bellow. Well, I don't actually read them so there may be a chance they weren't mean, but still. What I'm saying is… the new life of _famous_ Ysabella kind of begins.

Alright, let's just focus on the good news, shall we? The point is my new single has received positive reviews and _commercially_ —I thank Jasper for that!—successful, having sitting comfortably at number five on Billboard Hot 100. And don't start with the music video on my YouTube channel. It has been over a hundred million views! I know right! It's fucking crazy! I didn't know what to say when Alice told me something about the first-week sales. Therefore, I did what I could; screaming from the top of my lungs all people in the studio had to cover their ears. We did silly dances, sang out of tunes, and etcetera to celebrate our big achievement. Jasper even called one day to congratulate me and said he hoped he wasn't stuck to the project he was working so he could pay a visit to New York. I thanked him numerous times on the phone because, yeah, what would I do without him, right?

The past four weeks have being spent by me promoting my single and the upcoming album, _Monochrome_ , doing interviews on some radios plus performances at some local televisions. Yeah, busy, I know. And worse, Carlisle didn't feel like giving me a break because he decided to push forward the released date of my album to mid September.

It's going to be a long damn year.

.

.

.

"Who the hell is Barbara Palvin?" I ask no one particular, scrolling down the comments in Instagram of the pic I just posted. It's me and Rose in her kitchen, cooking for our dinner. Fame has made all my social media flooding with followers and it makes me a little attached lately. Besides, what's wrong with sharing for my fans, right?

"Why?" Rose asks back while glancing at my phone. I unconsciously keep it away, making her pout.

"You know her?"

"Kind of. We're in the same model agency." Okay, so she's a model. "What's wrong?" Rose presses further impatiently.

"I don't know. People just keep comparing me to her." I shrug. Her first reaction is choking on her wine. Hard. "What the fuck, Rose, are you okay?" I attempt to pat her back but she holds up her hand.

"No way."

"What?"

"I don't see the similarities." She is eyeing me up and down, seems satisfied with what she sees. "She's more beautiful." She says in final tone.

"Thanks." I scowl. Rose is laughing her ass off.

It's something I get used to lately because this is what our friendship is like. Blunt and no filter. Despite Rose is known for being unapproachable, we get along just fine. Well, not really, we haven't come to the term best friend yet, but when she says I'm the closest girlfriend she has, it must mean something, right? Besides, Alice is kinda busy working of as true manager, so I don't have choice but spending more time with Rose.

"How do you feel about being famous?" She asks. I hardly tear my eyes from the television. We are watching _Troy_ right now and I always have my eyes for Brad Pitt. Rose prefers Tom Cruise, though. Which is why DVD night is apparently the rough night for us.

"Why'd you ask?" Eyes still on the screen.

"I'm just curious. Oh, come on, B, Brad isn't that good-looking," she scoffs, waving her hands in front of me like a maniac to get my attention. And to prevent me from watching.

"Actually, Brad is _that_ good-looking." Ugh, I don't need another which-one-is-more-good-looking contest. So, I quickly continue before she says any words indicating the start of the debate. "And to answer your question, it's annoying."

"Umm, what?"

"Being famous is annoying." I repeat. Her lips are quirked in amusement. "I mean, I love my fans, but it's the media that I can't stand."

"It's easy. Just ignore them."

"That's the hardest part."

.

.

.

Another schedule comes up and before I know it, I'm flying to LA for attending VMA. Well, fuck, I don't believe I'm invited to a big event like this. But here I am, striding through LAX in the middle of the night. As if my weary face isn't showing enough, the papz are raiding me with the fucking flash of their cameras. Man, I don't want to admit it, but maybe Alice is right. I must hire bodyguards or something. The idea isn't as ridiculous as I heard it for the first time.

 _"_ _Isabella!"_

 _"_ _Bella!"_

 _"_ _How are you, Bella!"_

 _"_ _You look beautiful!"_

 _"_ _Bella, look at here!"_

 _"_ _Bella, you okay?"_

"Step back, guys! Please, she's tired!" Alice yells out of frustration. The flash doesn't stop, though. I hate my life most at the time like this. The car seems so far away. But we finally make it there. I breathe in relief as soon as the car door is shut and we drive away from the airport. "I'm so hiring the bodyguards!"

Like I'm gonna complain.

.

.

.

I'm so fidgety for VMA, really. I keep biting my nail until Alice smacks my hand away. Saying something about ugly habit. She doesn't question me, thank fuck, been too busy speaking on her phone. The little evil may think I'm afraid of tripping in the fucking red carpet, though. I don't blame her. I mean, it's not like I'm gonna perform. So, what's to worry about, right? Well, there, she misses the point.

Edward will be on the stage instead.

Just thinking about him singing makes me shiver. Damn, I'll be watching him live, like really live. Not that I have never done that—well, not in a long time I guess, because we've been busy with our own carriers—but now the circumstances are much different. I'm about to take steps in his realm, his territory. The Holly-fucking-wood. God must love me.

I don't know how he takes my success. He didn't call, like usual. I didn't expect him to anyway. We never define our _thing_. What we have between us is above words. Can't be described, invisible, yet so manipulative. And I'm an ignorant person. All I do is let him leave, let him come. Whenever he wants to. While the aching of this heart always feels fresh like yesterday.

I hate him.

I hate myself more.

That's why I'm not ready. To meet him, to casually greet him as if he didn't just visit my apartment for a quick fuck. I'm not ready to be ignored like the way he did when we accidentally met in London. I'm not ready. I'm not fucking ready for all of those.

The panic turns into sleepless night. Sleepless night results of me calling Jasper in the early morning, hours before the event. I don't think he's gonna answer, but he does. In second ring.

"Bella?" His tone is pure surprised.

"Um, hi."

"Yeah, hi." I can imagine him rubbing the back of his neck. Confusion written all over his features.

"How are you?"

"Good, you?"

"Good." I pause a little. "Ugh, sorry…er, for calling, you know. You must be sleeping."

He laughs. "Nah, don't be. And I wasn't sleeping. I'm…working."

"What?" I almost raise my voice an octave. "You working? But it's like…2 in the freaking morning."

"You know how I am." I _hear_ him shrug nonchalantly. I roll my eyes. "How are you doing?"

"Good…I think. I'm in LA, by the way."

"For VMA?"

"Kind of."

"We should hang out." He hesitates before adding. "If it's fine by you, I mean."

"Of course, it's fine." I reply in rush. "We can go somewhere—how about now?" The words spill before I can stop it.

There's a pause for a moment before he inquires. "You sure?"

"Yeah, if it's fine by you."

"Of course, it's fine." I can feel the smirk on his words.

.

.

.

I dress in comfortable jeans and hoodie, shades on. Jasper is picking me up at the back entrance of the hotel. It's his idea. I hop into his Range Rover as soon as I find him behind the wheel. Then we drive away. To forget this city and the reason why we're here.

The silence isn't awkward. It is plain peaceful. Some classical music can be heard in the background. Slow and quiet. I love it.

"Where are we going?" I ask, turning to him briefly.

"Where do you want us to go?" Those lips are curled into smirk. He looks handsome and relaxed with jeans and white button-down shirt. But I know there is so much stress and dark circles under those eyes, remembering he works this late only God knows since when.

"I don't know. We can drink or something." I shrug. It's always like this with Jasper. He'll follow the flow and kind of walk at my pace. Never press. Never make me feel like I owe him explanation.

We pull to some small building. The parking lot looks empty. There are only three cars including Jasper's. We get out of the car, walking side by side across to the parking area and soon, through the main door. The bar is as simple as I thought would be. There isn't a lot of space. It's so far from luxury. But more important, it seems quiet. Some music is played just vaguely. I sigh, want to thank Jasper immediately. The least I need is going to noisy place.

I sit on the booth as he orders two beers. Few minutes later, the waiter brings our drinks.

"You seem to handle fame too well." He breaks the silence not after taking a full swing of his beer.

"Oh, you don't even know half of it." I huff, following his movement.

"What? You say it like the blame is on me." He smiles playfully while taking off his shades. They're tired and red. I roll my eyes at his words.

"You're cursed of making people famous."

"Cursed? Don't you think it's a blessing instead?" The grin is back in place. I can't help but smile too. "And I don't make _anyone_ famous, Bella. Just the talented _ones_."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I wave dismissively. He chuckles. "How's your project?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"I'm working on it."

"What kind of project it is?"

"Oh, I haven't told you?" I shake my head. "I'm composing the score for some film."

"Really? Damn, how can you never tell me?" I punch his arm hard, but he doesn't wince.

"That, can be found in Wikipedia, you know." Those blues are twinkled in amusement in spite of the sleepiness and exhaustion. The night is no longer young anyway.

"Right, Mr. Famous." He just smirks, turning his attention back to the beer in hand.

"So…" The pause is a little bit dramatic. "What's wrong, really? You obviously aren't the type of girl who would ask some _random_ people to go on a date with you in the early morning."

"You're not some random people." I narrow my eyes. He arches the eyebrows. "And it's not even a fucking date." Thinking about going on a date with someone else makes me feel like I'm betraying Edward. I'm more stupid than I know.

"Of course, it's not, Miss Celebrity. I wouldn't dare." Jasper puts his hand on his chest. The expression is serious, but the tone is mocking. I don't expect he has a sense of humor before. It's kinda surprising. So, I laugh, less irritated of his words.

"Well, maybe one day."

"Is it a promise?"

"Maybe."

.

.

.

I'm back to the hotel at five in the morning, slipping into my room without Alice knowing. Which is resulting of her bitching about my ugly tired eyes. I appreciate her for preparing everything I need for my red carpet appearance today, but really, it's just been a long night and it's too early to be noisy. After I take a shower, I'm sat in front of the dressing table. Someone is applying my make-up, another is doing my hair. They're not Alice. It used to be her. Through the mirror I see the devil itself snapping to her personal assistant. Yep, you don't hear me wrong. Alice has a fucking personal assistant now. The business apparently grows bigger.

They're finished about an half and an hour later. My ass can feel the heat of sitting that long. I'm seconds away to yell at them for putting me in misery, but I keep my mouth shut as I glance to the mirror. Shit, I don't know I can look this beautiful. The make-up is flawless. Pink lips, black eyeliner, thick eyebrows, they're perfect. And my hair, it's turned into a simple messy side braid, yet still elegance. Maybe all of this playing Bella-Barbie is worth it.

"Oh, God! You're so gorgeous!" Alice squeals. I hold the urge to roll my eyes because, hey, she was the one who did a great job about hiring them. "Now put these on."

I go to my bedroom and do as she said. They are matched dark blue, two-piece bodycon. The top is tight and short, barely covering the midriff and without sleeves while the skirt is high-waisted, tight, and long, with a high side slit. The last thing to wear is a pair of shiny white stilettos. Damn, I bet I look even better now. The look people give when I come out of the room say I am.

Ten minutes later I have arrived at Microsoft Theater. There are so many celebrities, already posing to the cameras along the red carpet. Hell, I can even see J-Lo is being interviewed from where I stand. This is crazy. I can't believe I'm part of it. I stride forward after straighten my clothes and I can hear people calling my name. I stop to at empty space and let the photographers to take my pictures. Smiling here and there, posing this and that, all as they ask me to. I wave at my fans before I'm lead to do some interviews.

He asks about my topped-chart single, upcoming album, and so on. I'm in the middle of answering questions when the crowd of fans suddenly screams so loud all of people have to turn their heads to see what causes it. Wrong move for me. Now I can't even look away from the source of this madness. Edward Masen just strolls through the red carpet, looking Hollywood-hot wearing that unbuttoned slim fit blazer with white t-shirt beneath. He steals all attentions. Every stare is directed to him. Every single fan is yelling his name. He is smiling to the photographers. It's beautiful. And abruptly I contemplate to leave this place and go back to the hotel, spending the rest of the day on my bed. As if breathing in the same air with him isn't enough, he has to turn his head and catch my gaze. Greens meet blues. His stare is indifferent, uninterested. Mine is absolutely more pathetic. The sound of the crack of my heart fills these ears.

 _What do you expect, Bella?_ I remind myself. _Of course, we are back to his game_. I scurry away to go inside after finishing the interview with quick answers.

The day flies in snail pace. We clap, we cheer, watching the performances, listening the speech from the winners—Edward wins three awards, by the way—fake-smiling as the cameraman shoots our face, etcetera, etcetera. I'm seated between Sam Smith and Chrissy Teigen, a row away from Edward who is seated comfortably at first front. There is no Tanya Denali, thank God.

When it comes to his performance, I nearly bolt out of the room. But he's there, looking calm as ever with a guitar slung on his shoulder, makes me feel foolish to get nervous over him. Just as I wanna be brave, he hums. And I feel weak again. The intro of the song I know too well is played on the background. And when it comes to the part he begins to sing, I fall.

" _Well, maybe I'm a crook for stealing your heart away. Yeah, maybe I'm a crook for not caring for it. Yeah, maybe I'm a bad, bad, bad, bad person. Well, baby I know._ " His expression matches the sad melody. The sweet-angel voice is filling the air, cutting me through like a sharpened knife.

" _And these fingertips will never run through your skin and those bright blue eyes can only meet mine across the room filled with people that are less important than you_." It's a true irony. He's telling our story. And no one is aware about it. Only us. We are exposed yet still hidden.

" _All 'cause you love, love, love when you know I can't love…you love, love, love when you know I can't love you_." I swear he looks deep into my eyes when he's singing this part. As if he's saying 'so _yeah, it's about us_ ', but hell, his face almost tells me how sorry he is. I don't know if it's for being honest or being mean. My tears have threatened to spill.

" _So I think it's best we both forget before we dwell on it. The way you held me so tight all through the night 'til it was near morning_."

How can you love and hate someone at the same time?


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Thirteen-Thirty Five**

After VMA, I'll be going back to New York and chilling in my apartment for two weeks full since the little evil kind-heartedly gives me the leisure before the released date of _Monochrome_ on September 16. Well, that was my plan. But the series of events that happened these days like, for example; meeting Edward in _this city_ , makes me reluctant to go. I mean, we are in the same fucking city. His city. His home. We are _this_ close. Tiny happiness, mindless hope, I don't care. I don't feel like leaving LA yet. Leaving _him_ yet. Despite how he'd keep rubbing salt on my wounds. I just…can't, you know?

Still, Alice can't stay here because she has appointments in New York. Something about recruiting bodyguards—well, yeah, she works fast. So I spend my time alone in the hotel before I decide to contact Jasper, asking him to have lunch with me. His work would be damned.

Heavy sighs, his lame excuses, and my whines later, he finally says yes. I literally pump my fist in the air. Who knows Isabella Swan can separate Jasper Hale from the love of his life? An hour later we are heading to Sugarfish, a sushi restaurant that is located in Beverly Hills. He has reserved table for us which is why I can't decline when he suggests the place. He is dressing casual, wearing basketball shorts, white t-shirt, and a pair of blaze green Adidas that matches the shorts. Being laid-back, yet still manages to look charming, even with that tired face of working overnights.

A couple of papz are already there when Jasper parallel-parks the car just outside the building. Avoiding them, we hurriedly enter the restaurant, out of their reach. The table is situated in the corner, far away from the windows. I let Jasper order the menu for me too because I don't know what is the most recommended sushi they have here. Seeing how nonchalant he greets the waiter, I'm aware he is regular customer.

"So…the look on your face tells me you're kinda pissed I interrupt your work." I bring the chopsticks to my mouth, shoving salmon sushi inside.

"Not really. You're not a boring company." He gives me that childish grin. An idea pops out in my head.

"Well, if you said so, why don't you show me around?" My words make him groan loudly. I hold a chuckle. "What?"

"You know I have some works to do." I must snort at that.

"Dammit, Jas, can it wait? It's not like I come to LA every day."

He opens and closes his mouth twice, can't seem to finding the right words. Or maybe the right excuses. "Fine." He grunts. I arch my brow questioningly. "Fine, I'll show you around. Happy?"

"Not when you look like you want to strangle me." He mumbles something I can't quite hear, but I let it go.

After finishing the meal and his insistence to pay the bill, we exit the restaurant. The papz start taking pictures as many as possible while throwing me questions at the same time. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. I narrow my eyes as I see Jasper chuckle from my peripheral.

 _"_ _Bella, how you doing?"_

 _"_ _You enjoyed your lunch?"_

 _"_ _Isabella!"_

 _"_ _Are you two dating?"_

 _"_ _Bella!"_

I duck them and go straight to the passenger seat of the car. Like usual, not bothering to answer. The man beside me bursts out of laughter as soon as he steps on the gas. We leave the papz behind, but of course they keep following us with their own respective car. Jasper doesn't seem to care, though.

"That was epic. Now they will think we're dating. God forbid a man and a woman eating lunch together." He says between laughs. I don't have a choice but follow.

.

.

.

Since the media has dubbed Jasper as my hot date, everything goes crazy. My Instagram is showered by many tags of our pics and supports of our non-existent relationship. Papz start to follow him around too. His house even becomes their newest target. God, the situation is so fucking funny. But Jas doesn't care at all about the gossip. So, I don't either.

Well, until I see a notification on my phone screen that makes my eyes pop out.

 _Edward Masen (edwardmasen) started following you on Instagram._

Shit.

I check it right away and find that it's a verified account. It's really him following me. Well, damn. What the hell is he doing? What's his freaking motive? Because when it comes to him there's nothing nonchalant about it. He's sneaky like that.

I won't lie I'm kind of… hopeful? Whatever it is, it drives me nuts. My thumb has ghosted over the follow button for minutes before the logical part of me wins and closes the page. When I do that, I feel like I can breathe again, not even realize he holds that much power over me.

Right. I will not give him the satisfaction this time. Let him play his game by himself.

All day I'm distracted by Jas taking me to the beach. Again, he spares his time between the crazy works. Always keeping the promise. Always taking me seriously. I admire him for that.

We're strolling the beach barefoot, enjoying the wind and the sound of waves while the papz are hiding, clicking their cameras silently. Something that I get used to lately. I and Jas are walking side by side. Not holding hands, not even touching. As if there's invisible gap between us, the limited line. But whatever causes it, he's quiet, pretends he doesn't realize. The man likes silence a lot and makes it comfortable for us. One of his talents I love the most.

"How's work?" I inquire suddenly. Too sudden I don't even have a time to think about it.

"Almost done." He turns his head slightly, eyes are curious as usual.

"Good for you."

"Yeah."

And we fall into quietness again. Warm and peaceful. With him it's always like this. Well, if I'm with him at all, I will almost see no heartbreak. No drama. No undefined relationship. It's all commitment and loyalty. Because I can't imagine him being an asshole. He's all about kindness and respect. _Safe_.

Sometimes I wonder what if I really want to start this. How's it turned to be? Will he really love me? Will I really love him? Because the longer I'm around him, the more I consider him as an alternative choice. Shit, it even tastes cruel on my tongue. Shall I give it a try? Am I ready? Those are the questions I can't ever answer.

.

.

.

At night I'm by myself again. In my hotel room, feeling empty. A hole in my soul is showing its existence. All because of _him_. He comes struck my mind the moment confusion and frustration meet. I've been trying so hard to convince myself his act means nothing. But it's actually a lie. He fills my system, spreading like a disease. Again, I'm a willing victim. Pathetic willing victim.

This is not the first time I can hardly sleep. Inside, my mind is running. Blocking versus recalling the images of him. Outside, I'm pacing. Biting my thumbnail, clenching and unclenching my fist. Hell, I think I'm going to be a freaking lunatic soon.

It's when the clock points past midnight, I hear knocks. Weird, because I'm not expecting company. Who the hell comes to my room in the middle of the night? Sure it's not Jas because the man has manner. The most possible candidate is Alice. Sometimes she doesn't bother to call to announce her arrival. That little evil, really.

Without hesitation I open the door.

"Alice, what the hell are you—" I stop dead on my track as soon as the reality unfolds in front of me. Although it's kind of covered by aviators and snapback, I'm sure as hell this isn't Alice's face. The red strands under that hat are undeniable.

My first reaction is to close the freaking door. But he puts his foot between the door and the doorjamb at the last minute to keep it open. His body follows swiftly. And before I know it, he's inside the room with me.

"Bella." He says my name without guilt when I'm still staring at him in horror. Because my sweet nightmare has come alive. I don't trust my vision anymore. "Bella." He tries again, taking off his aviators in the process. I take a step back as I meet those emeralds. Hand covering mouth to suppress a gasp. His eyes are bloodshot and panic. Sad, but angry. "Please." He now pleads, holding out his hand for me to take. I want to reach it. Touch it. Feel it. He tempts me because he knows I miss him too.

"What are you doing here?" I ask loudly, an attempt to shut the screaming voices inside my insane brain. His hand falls limp at his side. Eyes narrow, jaw hardens.

"Who the fuck is he?" I flinch at his tone. And his sudden move to grasp me by both arms. The man goes straight for the kill. The main reason he's here.

"What are you talking about?"

"The guy you are with all week. Is the fucker here?" he spits venom, eyes are searching angrily.

"Who…wait, do you mean Jasper?" his grip on my arms tightened, but not enough to hurt me or leave marks. He stays quiet and all of sudden it all makes sense. Jas is the reason he's here at the first place. And the motive behind the following Instagram incident. Him. It's all because of him. Not me.

"Who is he, _baby_? Who is he to you?" he shakes my shoulders. Voice trembles with fear. But I stand on my ground, faking the strength. Meanwhile, tears are ready to spill. He's breaking me again. "I swear to God if he touches you, I will—"

"What? What will you do? What _can_ you do?" I mock in bitter tone. Because he doesn't have the right to come to me for this fucking laughable reason.

He opens his mouth to answer but is cut by the knocks and yelling outside. "Masen, I know you're there!" Edward rolls his eyes and huffs loudly, but doesn't move. While I'm kind of nervous and confused. "MASEN, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"

With that, he has enough and yanks it open.

"What the fuck, Peter?!" he shouts back, annoyance is clear in his voice.

"You little motherfucker! The plane has been waiting for an hour now because you didn't show up in the fucking airport!" the blond man comes into my sight. I know this guy anywhere. His manager. The one who spotted him to become a star. The one who brought fame to his feet. And still do.

"Jesus, calm down! And lower your fucking voice." Edward hisses.

"How the hell I can calm the fuck down, you fuckwit! No more cancelling concerts, Masen, you promised me! Aro will have my fucking head!" Frustration is obvious on his face. I kind of pity him. It must be hard keeping up with his obnoxious attitude.

"Just a fucking minute, okay?"

"We don't have time. Papz are already outside this hotel." My eyes widen at that, but Edward is still as calm as the fucking ocean. Like it doesn't bother him at all.

"Whatever." He snorts before turning his attention back to me. "Promise me something, Bella. _Please_." Those emeralds are pleading, beautiful and real, but I've been playing his game for too long, looks can be deceiving.

"What?" I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest as the desire for reaching him becomes too much.

"Stay away from him."

.

.

.

Edward becomes the headline on every gossip tabloid and website since he paid 'a visit' to my hotel room. Although my identity is still unknown to the public, it's said he actually met a woman there. Which kind of starts the rumor of his infidelity. There is neither confirmation nor denial from his side or Tanya's, but the media has been saying their relationship has gone 'sour' for the past weeks and keep reporting they are on the edge of break-up. Man, I really should stop reading this shit.

Alice flies back to LA to throw a freaking birthday party for me. She calls at the last minute, telling everything is already prepared and she will be so broken-hearted if I make her cancel this celebration plan. She insists we shall chill out before starting another hectic week in a couple of days. The little evil has even already made invitations. All she does it behind my back. Worse, the party will be held in Jasper's house and Rosalie will be there. Those backstabbers, really.

Alice brings some dresses for me to wear tonight, all new and designer-tagged. She is lucky I'm too tired to complain when she starts playing Bella-barbie. The little evil herself applies my make-up and personally chooses what I'm gonna wear. Whatever. I willingly put on anything she hands me right now. The world never doubts her taste in fashion. She convinces me on and on that this silky ivory-white mini dress will look perfect on my body. The dress has long sleeves and low cut, deep V-neckline, almost showing off half of the flesh of my breasts. She says I need to dress sexy at least once in my life. I just roll my eyes at her words.

Jasper picks us up at the hotel. Papz are already there, clicking their cameras as I make my way to his car. Alice is close at my side.

 _"_ _Happy birthday, Bella!"_

 _"_ _Bella, you're so beautiful!_

 _"_ _Bella, right here, please!"_

 _"_ _Bella! Jasper!"_

 _"_ _Jasper, right here!"_

 _"_ _Isabella, happy birthday!"_

"Thank you." I reply between blinding flash and noisy yell. Head's down, unconsciously keep checking on the dress, afraid of some wardrobe malfunctions, like nipple slip and such. It would be so fucking embarrassing if it really happened.

Jas guides me to a passenger seat, opening the door like a gentleman. "You look gorgeous." He murmurs on my ear. It doesn't sound sexual or flirty, simply an honest praise. I smile without turning to him.

"Thanks."

The papz keep surrounding us and taking pictures even after we all get in the car. Jas has to horn few times so he can drive away from here. Alice exhales loudly, seems relieved when the car finally can move. We're heading to Jas' house in West Hollywood. I still can't believe they trick me into this party shit. Alice is talking, says I'm gonna fucking like it. Jas is quiet as usual. But sometimes I find him glancing at my way.

When we arrive, I'm greeted by Rose. She is beyond stunning as always. Much to my surprise, Leah, Amber, and Seth are here too. The rest of attendees are unknown to me. But they all wish me happy birthday like they know me since forever.

I blow the candles, cut the cake, and take pictures, all smiling and happy. Alice sure as hell knows how to throw a freaking party. I feel relaxed and distracted from the thought of Edward. The man neither calls nor text, yet he insists I promise him to stay away from Jasper. Something that, of course, I can't do. It seems so unfair he can hang out with any girls he likes while I shall be stuck only with him. It hurts so bad remembering he came to me that night because of Jasper. Sometimes I want to hurt him back. To make him suffer the way he makes me. But on the other hand, I know I don't have the heart to do that. I love him too much. So the least I can do right now is to enjoy the night and forget about him.

I'll fucking try.

"Alice is a great party planner, don't you think?" I feel Jas standing by my side, grinning.

"You are all." He chuckles at accusation.

"Well, thank you." There's a pause for a moment before he continues. "I have something for you, yeah since it's your birthday." I turn to him fully as he hands me a small white gift box wrapped up by blue ribbon.

"You don't have to, you know."

"Open it." He says. When I do it, I blink a couple of times before processing what's really inside that gift box. A beautiful bracelet is staring back at me. It's white gold with some cute pendants around. Holy shit.

"It's…"

"Do you want me to put it on?" he asks, smirking at my reaction. But I can see the hope in those blues. My mouth feels dry. Guilt kicks me in the fucking gut. I can't do this. I don't know why but it just feels wrong. I can't be with him. Or anyone else other than Edward. God knows I've tried. Still, I'm not ready. Not now.

"Jas…"

"As a friend?" he offers with a hellish calm tone I can't quite figure the meaning.

"Are you sure?" I ask warily. He gives me that assuring smile again.

"Bella, I don't expect anything from you, okay?"

"Okay." I say quietly, letting him put the bracelet around my wrist. "As a friend."

.

.

.

Later that night I get a text from unknown number.

 _I'll fucking come to get you._

.

.

.

Everything happens at the same time my brain tries so hard to freaking process it. First, _Monochrome_ receives generally favorable reviews by music critics and becomes a hit in several international music charts. Second, my US tour is already sold out in some cities. Third, the last expected, Edward posts a pic of us on Instagram.

Our old pic. It was candid, I remember it. Our head was thrown back because we were laughing so hard, looking young and so free. Before all the fame and one-sided separation. It was taken just weeks after the day we first met. At the same fucking café. Always.

I miss it. I miss every detail of my memory. The caption on that photo tells me he does too.

 _Always u, B_

I don't know if he means it or not, but the logic part of me doesn't want to take his act seriously. This heart is kinda hopeful, though.

As soon as it's discovered that it's my face on that pic and B stands for my name, Bella, the media is crazy chaos. Some speculate that I'm the other woman while the others say I'm an ex Edward's trying to win back. Whatever it is, a source close to him confirms that he and Tanya are already over. Which honestly I'm fucking glad to hear.

Another thing I'm thankful for is the moment I and Edward become a trending topic in all gossip tabloids and websites, I'm already on tour. So busy having concerts in city after city. Some insistent journalists from famous magazines are chasing me, though, offering me a fucking lot of money to do the cover and interview. And what they say by interview means _my personal life_. So I tell Alice to decline all of them.

Rosalie calls me often, demanding the whole story because she says she'll be insane soon if she keeps being left in the dark. I tell her the truths, but not the whole story. I tell her I and Edward kinda had a thing in the past. I tell her I just want to remain friends with her brother and this bracelet is a symbol of our friendship, unlike what the public assumes all this time that we're officially dating. Rose can't hide her disappointment.

Much to my surprise, Edward doesn't stop at that. After the Instagram drama, he has been sending many things to show that he's really serious with me. It starts when I'm in Houston, there is a freaking bucket consists of a hundred pink roses within and a note saying _wait me_. Then when I'm in Atlanta, he sends me a large box of chocolate. It is super expensive I can tell by its appearance. And price never deceives. It tastes so fucking good I think I'll die when I eat them. Alice admits it too. The little evil eats more than half a box. After the chocolate, there is a huge white teddy bear sent to me along with a note read _miss you_. I know they're all from him because his manager, Peter, calls Alice to confirm it. He says Edward is doing his South America tour right now. My inner rolls eyes. Like I don't freaking already know that.

Media is back reporting the news of us, of course, but I still refuse to comment. To add the fuel in the rumor, Tanya has to be bitching about me on her Twitter account. Well, she doesn't technically mention my name, but the whole universe knows it's about me.

 **HAHAHA that bitch's playing hard to get now. LOL**

I don't respond to it.

By the mid November, my tour is done. I rock my sold-out concert in Madison Square, which is the last one this year, before finally getting back to my apartment to freaking hibernating. Alice even lets me have time for myself before the AMA. She knows how exhausting my schedule will be for next months.

Three days before AMA, I fly to LA to rehearse because I'll freaking perform on the main show. Yeah, un-fucking-believable because last time I checked, I was still doing festival gigs. Edward will be performing too, of course. I have anticipated another awkward meeting. So does the media, making sure they record everything. Onstage or not.

I'm wearing Versace's silver backless gown and a pair of white Manolos tonight. Alice—again—chooses it for me as always. Rose joins me in AMA for presenting an award. So we walk on the red carpet together.

When the event begins, my eyes involuntarily search for Edward because he apparently skips the grand entrance. I find him sitting on front row, looking handsome as a fucking sinner in that maroon blazer.

By the time I perform, I become nervous as hell. Alice tries to calm me down and surprisingly it helps a little. After the longest five minutes in my life is finally over—with a good end, thankfully—I run backstage to hug my crew. We killed it! Nothing out of tune or out of beat. Totally the copy of rehearsal, only better.

I'm seconds away to enter my dress room for changing outfit as I feel a hand on my elbow. It's warm but cold at the same time. The bad feeling in the pit of my stomach comes true as I look over my shoulder. Blazing yet longing emeralds are staring back at me, determined and demanding, makes me feel somehow caged.

"Edward." I greet in clipped-tone, praying to God no one is around to watching us.

"Bella, I…we need to talk." He says. The cool outer walls he has built are being uncovered before my eyes. I don't know if it's a good thing or not, but I try my best to be unaffected.

"Sorry, I have to go now." I reply in dismissal. He easily turns me to him. The move I don't expect at all.

"Don't give me that bullshit." He spit. Those eyes flash with anger for a split second before soften back. He changes faster than the weather. "Please, I… fuck, Bella, I… I'm fucked up big. I fucking know it." He whispers, pained and honest. "Forgive me, _love_ , forgive me."

"This is not the right time to talk about it, Edward." You're too late.

"No, please, baby, I'm so sorry." He pleads, not even hide the hurt in his voice. "Let's start over."

* * *

:)


	7. Chapter 7

Song by Ariana Grande

* * *

 **Chapter 7 – My Everything**

My single 'Ghost' hits No. 1 on Billboard Hot 100. Alice is happy. Carlisle is happy. The company is happy. Everyone's happy. I shall be happy. This is a huge success of my career, the point I finally reach, big dreams come true moment. I'm so proud of my team. Our hard works are indeed paid off.

Looking at how I started from the very fucking bottom, and even homeless for months before finally getting recording deal with Cullen Records, I'm gonna say this shit is still hard to believe. Hell, I was kinda doubtful back then I could achieve all of my dreams here. Because the first time Edward signed a deal was with a big, famous record label. And he became a star the second he dropped his first single. On the other hand, I had to struggle on my first album. I can't say it was a failure, though, just…not as exploded as I wanted it to be. But now, I make it. There, to the fucking top chart. I'm known. My songs have been played on every freaking radio. My album's first week sales hit the number I couldn't even dare to imagine before. I'm interviewed by Rolling Stone, Billboard has me on its cover, and other artist musicians want me to feature their songs. I'm blessed. So, there's no reason I'm not happy. I shall be.

But I'm not.

I don't feel anything. Just…nothing. I'm not depressed or whatsoever. It's just like there's something uncompleted in this freaking stardom. I almost feel, I don't know, lonely? Kinda bullshits remembering I have had the best people to be with. Still, I am…numb.

And it's all _him_. Always comes back to _him_. The main reason I'm willing to open old scars. To bet everything I have to see if he really changes.

The day he begged my forgiveness and paparazzi's camera had to motherfucking record all of it, my world once again shifted. Although I said to him that I needed time to think about his sudden change of heart, the media has been saying we will actually come back together soon. Then in the short time after that, his fans are automatically my haters. I am now called with mean names on every social media. _Heartless bitch_ , _crazy wicked lucky slut_. Oh, if only they know, right? But of course they don't. They just want to know what they want to hear. I'm not beautiful enough. I'm not tall enough. I'm not sexy enough. I'm not perfect enough. Universe forbids I'm anywhere near him.

They judge without knowing my struggle to reach this point. Because I've been through so much they won't believe my stories. What Edward has done is beyond their imaginations. He's an asshole, but they still admire him no matter what yet hate me for not doing anything. They judge without knowing why I can't forgive him despite of his consistent apologizes on Instagram. Well, yeah, he does it again, posting our old pics, giving sweet captions, saying sorry. He even stays in New York just to be close to me. The man really wants to show that he has changed. But I can't trust him yet. Not when my heart is at stake again. Sometimes he calls or texts, just to know how I'm doing. He says he misses me. Still, I can't say I miss him too.

I busy myself in the studio, writing and recording my part whose songs I'll feature. DJ this, rapper that. Those are whom I haven't met before. They send me their samples and I usually make the chorus. Besides the featuring, I also drop a new music video on my YouTube channel in hope to prolong my success. The response is positive, thankfully.

Near Christmas, I totally feel alone. Everyone has already had plans. Alice and Garrett decide to spend it together at his parents' place. Rosalie is with Jasper. I'm invited to join them, though, but of course it's impossible. After that awkward night and all of the truths I don't tell, I feel like I need time to face him again. On the other words, everyone seems to be with their family or the loved ones. How ironic remembering I have been disowned by mine the moment I decided to pursue a music career. I sometimes wonder if they still hate me for my decision.

Edward calls more often, saying he wants to come to my apartment, but will not do it if he doesn't get my permission. Looks like there will no unannounced visit in the future. The man is trying hard to gain my trust back, I give him that. One thing he doesn't have to know is every time I reject him also tortures the hell out of me. As if being away from him is my darkest nightmare.

"Come with me." He says when we're in another late night call season. I don't always receive it, but this is just one of those nights when I miss him the most. "It doesn't have to mean something I swear. Just… just give me a chance to fix it."

"Where?" I want to smack my head for asking. It's a fucking bad idea. I should be hanging up just now.

"Barbados. But we can still go anywhere you like. Just name the place. I'll make it booked for us." He sounds optimistic and I'll hate myself for shattering his hope. It's such a dilemma, but it'll be a lie if I say I don't wanna go. Besides, it'll be kind of funny if I spend Christmas and New Year alone. And it looks like he knows very well I don't have any plans yet. "Bella?"

"Umm, I don't know, Edward…" I bite the corner of my bottom lip. "I think I'm not ready." He's quiet for a moment before replying. I can almost see his sad smile.

"It's okay. I'll be waiting. Just…just let me know, okay? I'm still here." I close my eyes at his desperate words. Man, he has never been as sweet as he is right now. His attempt to prove himself cracks the walls I've built. But I doubt I'll survive if I let him in.

"Okay."

"Okay."

"I…I'll come with you."

.

.

.

He has a private jet. I don't know the type but sure as hell it's so luxurious. Leather seats, lavish bathroom, and such. Well, I'm not surprised. He obviously has _that_ much money. Beside ourselves, we are joined by his assistant and bodyguard, Emmett, his manager, Peter, and Peter's girlfriend, Becca. Can say I'm glad it's not the two of us alone.

The flight is as awkward as it seems. I don't know what to say and do, considering I'm a big elephant in the fucking room. Others likely watch my every move with curious stares, but having Edward here make me a bit comfortable.

After flying for hours, we finally land at the local airport. From there, we go straight to the villa that has been rented by Edward for ten days. It's so big, up on the hill, close to the shore, with an amazing view of the sea ahead. Blue and white are all I can see. I love it.

"It's so beautiful." I can't help but looking around in awe as we're standing at the balcony. He chuckles beside me.

"Yeah, it is. It's good to share it with you, though." The man smirks, hands are buried deep in the pockets.

"I have never been here before." I say, fighting the urge to kiss that smirk of his. We're taking everything slowly now even though I'm still not sure if I'm ready to start this or not.

"Me too." He shrugs.

"Really?" I turn to him, eyebrow arches. "You seem to have been everywhere."

"No, I've never been here before."

"Oh? This was not the place where you and Tanya spent the summer, then?" The tone is full venom despite my lips smiling sweetly. I can't fucking help it. It's on the tip of my tongue. He smiles back weakly, shaking head.

"No. Of course not."

"Not with Tanya you mean?" I inquire, hoping to push his buttons.

"No, _love_ , not with anyone. It's only you." A crooked grin spread across his lips. Sexy and flirty. As if he's unaffected by my accused tone. I laugh bitterly.

"Well, let's see."

The next day, we're going to the beach. The water is the bluest I've ever seen and the weather is so warm, making me somewhat grateful to leave the freezing New York behind. I'm wearing the bikini I randomly threw in the luggage the day I packed at the last minute. It's simple, green, and strapless on the top. The stare Edward gives makes me smirk. Which quickly disappears the second he takes off his t-shirt. Inked torso, broad shoulders, and toned fucking abs. His body defines the perfection itself. I scoff. He doesn't play fair.

"So, what does it feel like, huh? Beat me on the top chart?" he questions as we're standing side by side with our feet sinking in the clear water.

"It's good." I reply half-heartedly, walking further toward the sea. He tails behind, but keeps the distance.

"Just it? Good? I thought you would say something like, _well yeah, eat that, you cocky asshole_." I chuckle at his attempt to faking my voice. He grins, stopping just next to me. The water is around my hips right now and I'm not aware he's been standing so close. "I missed you, you know." He confesses all of a sudden, tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ear.

"Edward." I warn weakly, even though craving for his touch inside.

"You're so beautiful." He ignores my warning and steps closer. Those emeralds are staring at me intently, searching for the truth beneath the tough mask. "May I kiss you?" he breathes. It's totally the same. Mint and cigarette and him. I shut my eyes tightly, afraid to looking into his hypnotizing eyes.

"Edward, I…"

"It's okay, _baby_. I'll wait." I open my eyes only to find him smiling sadly. "It's my fault after all." He continues, brushing his knuckles against my cheek. Again, seducing me with his touch.

"I don't promise you anything."

"I know, _love_. I understand."

.

.

.

Another day we go snorkeling and jet-skiing. It's so much fun and refreshing. The longer I'm here, the more I don't wanna leave. This place is like heaven on earth. Maybe I'm exaggerating or it's not just the place. Maybe Edward plays a role in making everything more attracting. Maybe I like the new him.

We eat dinner at favorite local restaurant. The ambience is good and the food surprisingly tastes so delicious. Also there's a live music playing romantic songs on the stage. They're great I admit, but of course Edward must interrupt them to freaking serenade me with my own song. Now we are the center of attention.

" _I know you're not far but I still can't handle all the distance_." He sings. Eyes on me only. " _You're travelling with my heart. I hope this is a temporary feeling_ … _Cause it's too much to bear…without you and I know sorry ain't the cure_." I smile at him. Because I remember too well how the state I was in the moment I wrote this song. " _If I cross your mind just know I'm yours. Cause what we got is worth fighting for_."

The rest of the night becomes blurred to me. When I'm alone in my bedroom, I keep playing that scene on my mind. Thinking, contemplating. Shall I give it a try? Shall I not? Am I ready for whatever outcome? Can I really fucking handle it? What if my heart will break again? Can he guarantee that won't happen? Can he goddamned promise me?

I'm pacing by the door, hand itching to turn the knob. I want to run to his bedroom, telling him I have changed my mind. That I'll try to trust him again. But instead, I go straight to the bed, closing my eyes, swallowing myself into the darkness in hope I'll fall asleep soon.

.

.

.

Five hours to New Year, we already join a party that is hosted by Russian billionaire on his private mega-yacht. Well, I'm not technically invited, but Edward is. And he won't go if I don't, so here we are. There's no specific dress code required—which I'm glad to hear, seeing I don't bring any formal attire—so I just wear my casual off-shoulder dress. It's white, loose, and mid-thigh length. Well, I think this is acceptable.

There are so many people in the party. From celebrities to socialites, looks like almost everyone is attending. I make small talks with a few while sipping my wine. And fortunately Edward doesn't leave my side for even a second so I don't have to face their curious stares alone. As the night becomes darker, our then-tiny circle now is joined by many women, all long legs and sexy midriff. Models, maybe? I don't blame them, though, Edward obviously draws every attention, especially females', wherever he goes without even intend to. But I can't say I'm not upset to see them flirt and fucking giggle. When Edward realizes my discomfort, he grabs my hand and gives it a light squeeze, wordlessly dismiss the models parade.

My head becomes lighter as I drink more alcohol. People are counting down as the year changes into a brand new one. I don't even give a shit about it. Not when the only thing I'm aware is Edward's hands on me. That may look as innocent touches, seeing how nonchalant he is, like when he's talking with this bald guy, his arm circles around my waist so casually, or when he's chatting with the fiancée of the Russian billionaire, he involuntarily kisses the top of my head, or when he puts his strong arm around my shoulder and half-hugs me…But somehow I know. I know he does it purposely. As if he's testing the water before going to swim. And I have alcohol as an excuse to let my guard down.

We walk home an hour later. Well, I don't remember walking to be honest. What I feel is I'm curled against his chest. "You're so cute when you're drunk." He says when we're halfway to the villa.

"I'm not drunk." I frown.

"You are." He laughs.

I may be sleeping for the rest of the walk because a moment later I find myself already lying safe on the bed. And even though my eyes are unfocused, I can feel him sitting beside me. His knuckles brush my cheek just barely.

"Sleep, _sweetheart_." He whispers to the dawn. These eyes are closed involuntarily.

"Sing me something." I reply though we both know in three seconds I'll probably have already gone. But he sings anyway. Just like the old times. Before the fame and everything that comes in between. He sings for me. His voice is so soft and as beautiful as I remember. I miss this. I miss us. And I keep asking myself in my dream. Am I ready now?

.

.

.

The moment I realize everything is the moment our holiday is over. The short trip in Barbados is totally exposed to the public. But now it's the two of us on the cover of every gossip tabloid and the headline of every online media. As soon as I get to my apartment, I go straight to my laptop because I just can't help it. Alice and Rose have been calling too, but I'm not going to answer until I read everything by myself.

My God.

This is just….hell, I can't even describe what I feel. Every page of the website I open is filled with the pictures of us, especially the day when we were chilling at the beach, me on the bikini and Edward being shirtless. Everything we did was captured in details. All of it. Every slightest touch, every move, every laugh, every smile….Damn. Now in their eyes we're official.

"So, tell me _dear bestfriend_ , what the hell is going on here?" she practically yells when I finally give up on her persistent calls. I can imagine she's pacing in the room with Garrett tries to sooth her.

"Honestly? I don't know." I reply, rubbing my temple in frustration.

"Okay, Bells, as your manager I'm gonna admit that this piece of shit will boost your fucking celebrity status, but as your best friend I'll say, for numerous times already, that this is stupid! I mean, are you fucking kidding me? He is an asshole, Bella. Once an asshole, stay an asshole. Don't. Just fucking don't, okay? I don't want you to get hurt. Not again." She reminds me what I already know. Trusting him is a huge deal, I am aware of that. She only makes sure I'm not making the same mistake again.

"I know, Al. I just… we're just friends, okay?" I can hear her scoff at my words.

"Are you serious giving me this bullshit?"

"Alice, please, we'll talk about this later, okay? I just fucking landed."

"Fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

.

.

.

I don't reply his texts or calls.

Nothing.

Doubt and fear get the best of me. Because somehow I know Alice is right. She has been witnessing all my fall for fucks sake, of course she knows what the best is. And just like that, I begin thinking about this more clearly. Getting involved with Edward is obviously a wrong choice.

He stops texting and calling a week later. I'm torn up between satisfied and disappointed. One side I actually expect him to turn away from me, but on the other side I'm kinda sad he's finally giving up. Well, that was what I thought before he unexpectedly shows up at in Montreal, right when I'm closing my Canada tour two weeks after he stops texting and calling. The man even barges into my dressing room. Seriously, what the hell are my bodyguards doing right now? I'm lucky I'm not changing clothes or worse, naked. That shit will be so fucking hilarious.

"What. The. Fuck." I stand on my feet immediately as he enters the room. He is perfect as usual wearing loose dark green sweater, a pair of jeans, and custom Nike sneakers. His expression is the mix of anger and confusion.

"Don't fucking do this to me, Bella." He spits venomously. I fold my arms over my chest, trying to play tough.

"Do what?"

"This." He growls, gesturing between us. "Turn your fucking back on me."

"I don't guarantee you anything, Edward." I roll my eyes dramatically.

"What game are you playing right now?" he hisses so low, pressing each word while grabbing my wrists to pull me closer to him. I try to calm my accelerated heart rate.

"Not everyone has the same way of thinking as you, so don't you fucking dare—" He shuts me up quickly. With his freaking lips.

Fuck.

The second his touches mine, I'm all gone. I don't even try to fight it. As if my body is on complete surrender, I kiss him back without realizing all the consequences that will bite me after. My brain is shut down as soon as he deepens the kiss, wrapping his arms so casually low around my hips. Also at some point drawing me closer until there's nothing but these clothes separating our body.

The air is thick of longing. Lips keep crashing lips desperately for dear life before I must break it to take a fucking breath. We are panting, but he holds me still while pecking me all over my face. He can't seem to stop. I can't either, actually.

"Don't overthink it, please." He says all of a sudden, looking me in the eye and, "Be my girl?"

* * *

 **;)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Show Me**

Alice will hate me forever. But, hell, I'll willingly face her fury. Anything. Because all of a sudden I realize, him is all I need. Like, I can feel completed again. As doesn't make sense as it sounds, this is what my heart truly wants. To be with him, his girl. Plain and simple. But of course, no one understands it. No one understands _us_.

"This is a fucking bad idea." Alice shakes her head for a hundredth time today. As soon as she hears about my plan to go to LA for spending time with him, she's the woman on mission.

"Everything's gonna be fine," I say over and over again. To myself and to the lil evil who's pacing in my living room.

"It's not." She glares.

"You're exaggerating." I huff in annoyance.

"Bella…" she whines. But I know her game too well.

"I'll be okay."

"Okay, huh?" she mocks in disbelief.

.

.

.

I remember those days back then when I was home with my parents. Home. A place where you belong to. Somewhere you can go back after years of struggling to achieve your dreams. I remember the feeling. The moment Dad would kiss the top of my head before I went to bed or when Mom would make me my favorite carrot cake every time I was in the foul mood. That was home. There, in Seattle. The city I grew up and—at the same time—ran away from.

But home was long gone the second I dropped off college and my family cut ties with me because I followed my heart on reaching my _real_ dreams. I had no one, no home, nothing. So when I find myself waking up on his bed with his arms wrapping around my body, unguarded and careless, I'm kind of stunned I feel the same feeling.

Home.

Here, in his embrace.

Plain and simple.

I move a little to get a better look of his peaceful face, wondering what he is dreaming of. My hand has its own mind to pinch his cheek. He slaps my hand away instantly, grumbling something under his breath and rolling his body to the side, facing away from me. His reaction actually makes me want to annoy him more. I scoot closer to his back then blow his ear. Now he's fully awake.

"Jesus, Bella!" he sits up quickly, looking me dead in the eye while rubbing his ear. I can't help but laughing out loud. But my laughter morphs into a shriek as soon as he tackles me to the bed and tickles my stomach.

"What! Edward! Edward!" I laugh.

"You're not sorry, aren't you?" He says in a mock anger.

"I am! Please! Please!" His grin is smug when he releases his death grip. Kissing my nose, the man then rolls to the side, going back to close his eyes. "Oh, you won't do that." I warn, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Do what?" he replies, eyes closed.

"Go back to sleep."

"I'm tired." He pouts, like really pout. And it's so, so cute.

"It's ten already." I roll my eyes. "I'm hungry."

"I asked Emmett to order us breakfast earlier. It's on the kitchen." He mumbles before turning his body, facing away from me.

"Yeah, okay. Doesn't matter. I'll eat alone." I reply sarcastically, annoyed. But he already snores lightly. Great.

I get up and wash my face in the bathroom before going downstairs to the kitchen. I find Emmett sitting alone on the stool, reading something. From what Edward told me, Emmett also lives here, in his house. So, yeah, I think I'll meet him often in the future. It will be kinda awkward, though because he doesn't talk much.

"Morning." I greet him, smiling. He looks up from his book before standing from his seat.

"Morning." He replies. And it's barely audible. I go straight to the kitchen counter where my breakfast lays on. Oh my god, this smells good. "I don't know what you like, so…I just order what Edward usually orders."

"Oh, it's okay. Thank you, Emmett."

"Do you want me to go or…"

I frown. "Of course not. Please stay."

He nods and goes back reading, sitting two stools away from me. I enjoy my meal, starving as hell. Minutes pass between us in silence, but surprisingly it's comfortable. Edward comes down to the kitchen the moment I finish this late breakfast. Sleepy boy.

"I can't believe you start without me." He says, wrapping his arms around my waist and snuggling to my neck.

"You're a heavy sleeper."

He chuckles. And it sounds so beautiful.

"Well, sorry." The man doesn't even mean it.

.

.

.

Now I understand when Edward says that fame is a pain in the ass. Especially when you just reached it and now are somewhat related to the infamous playboy in town. It's fucking impossible the papz will leave you alone. I have zero privacy here. Whatever I do, where ever I go, people are always watching my move. Our move. Power couple, as they dub it.

For a couple of days, I and Edward made no attempt to leave his mansion. We got our meals ordered or sometimes I cooked. We decided it was the best way to avoid the crazy papz. But…of course there was a time when we got bored and decided to chill out in his pool or his backyard, right? And guess what? Hours later our photos were all over the internet again. So since then I thought it was kinda useless locking ourselves from the outside world. Because somehow they always found a way.

"Wanna go out today?" he offers as his eyes are glued to his iPhone. Fingers type away quickly.

"Sure, where?" my hand plays with soft strand of his copper hair and it distracts him from whatever text he's replying.

"There's this barbeque party at friend's house…." He shrugs, glancing at me. I lift an eyebrow as he hooks his fingers into the back pocket of jeans. "Want to come?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Of course."

"Okay."

The party turns out to be in the same neighborhood with Edward's. Just five minutes drive. The house is already packed when we get there. I'm not gonna lie I'm kinda nervous meeting his people. Well, I'm new here so I think it's normal that I feel like I was a stranger in this circle. But I try to hide my discomfort, though. Don't want him to leave early because of my stupid nervousness. They are his friends after all.

"Edward, my man, you came." An African-american guy with dreadlocks hugs him in greeting.

"Laurent." His smile matches his.

"Edward! Wow, it's been too long!" Long dark-haired girl squeals as she sees him and practically jumps to hug him. I roll my eyes at that. Then the other girls approach us, asking how he's doing and other unimportant stuffs. After what it seems like ages, they begin to acknowledge my presence. "Oh, hi, Isabella. I'm Emilia, by the way." The dark-haired says, grinning evilly. I force a smile. Then she introduces me to the whole squad. I just wave them back awkwardly.

"Just call me Bella." I inform her. The girl just nods her head.

The whole squad is cool and friendly. We are hanging out at Laurent's backyard, talking about nothing particular. Smoking, drinking beer, eating some steaks. It's kinda fun actually, except for the fake smiles that I get from every girl in this circle. The look I'll get every time Edward is beside me.

"So, Bella, I think your music is so cool. Really, some lyrics are kinda deep, though." Laurent says, drinking his drink. He looks kinda high, though. But I like this guy and his personality.

"Thank you."

"Really? I haven't heard them. What are they about?" Emilia chimes in.

"Nonsense. Her songs have been hitting radio nonstop now. Where do you live, huh? In cave?" With Laurent's comment, she shuts up while the others snicker. But I don't think she's embarrassed looking at how she's glaring at me right now. "So, I'm curious, was it based on past relationship or something?" Then he turns to Edward. "Well, no offense, man, it's just I feel like I wanna kick the guy in the ass for hurting such a beautiful girl." He winks at me.

Edward chuckles. "Actually I know the guy." This catches my attention. I lift an eyebrow at his words, wanting him to continue. Those arms are wrapped around me possessively. "He's stupid and didn't deserve her."

.

.

.

When it's time for Grammy, Alice comes to LA. She has a dress, hair stylist and make-up artist ready for me. The dress is blue and floor length with plunging neckline and high split on the side. I'm kinda reluctant to wear it honestly, but Alice says she doesn't bring any spare dress for me. I must snort at that. It's a part of her evil plan of course.

Edward wears black from head to toe, black dress shirt, bowtie, slacks, even black polished shoes, except for his tuxedo jacket, which is white. The copper hair is combed back neatly, making him look more handsome than ever.

The papz go crazy as we're walking on the red carpet together. And I think it makes everything between us more and more official. We pose here and there, his hand on my waist. I smile until my facial muscle hurts. But they all look like they haven't done yet. Not even close.

 _"_ _Right here, Edward!"_

 _"_ _Bella!"_

 _"_ _Over here, Bella!"_

 _"_ _Edward!"_

 _"_ _You look good together!"_

After what feels like forever, we are finally escorted to the inside venue. I and Edward sit side by side at the very first row, thanks to his big name, of course, along with the other famous faces such as Jay-Z, Beyonce, Nicki, Taylor, Katy, and many more.

The event is going great. Edward wins two Grammy which are _Song of the Year_ and _Best Pop Solo Performance_. And like any other winning reactions, he kisses me on the lips while the camera shoots us. He dedicates the awards to his parents, whom he says strongly opposed his choice in music career since the very beginning. Well, shit, he is good. I bet Mr. and Mrs. Masen are pissed at his son right now.

After the main event, I and Edward join some Grammy's afterparty at famous local nightclub, 1OAK. The place is full of celebrities. We all are dancing, singing, and drinking on repeat. Edward introduces me to another popular scene, higher and richer circle. To the new world that's kinda foreign for me. This is the real fame, the superstardom life he has been living for years. I don't know if I really belong here.

Edward is on stage, rocking and cheering with people whom I have never met before. The crowd is high and crazy. And the man enjoys the attention. We all are aware his presence always attracts people.

I'm sitting on my seat, watching him. He looks so carefree and the most important, happy. The sight makes me smile. This feels surreal.

But of course someone has to ruin the moment.

Tanya is here. With that sexy dress and long legs and supermodel body. She looks so stunning and confident. And obviously hate me to the soul. That deadly glare confirms it.

Just as Edward gets off the stage, she looks away from me and strutted down the club like a fucking runway. I see where she goes. Edward seems a bit surprised as he finds the ex-girlfriend blocking his way. And more irritated when Tanya greets him by kiss on the cheek. She's really lack of shame. They exchange a few words before he walks away, leaving her alone.

I gulp my drink by the time he reaches our table.

I don't ask and he doesn't care to explain.

.

.

.

"Come with me." He says. We are on his bed right now, cuddling, naked, flush skin to skin. I sigh. For numerous times already. This is our last night together. Tomorrow I'll be going back to New York to hit another hectic schedule and on the other hand Edward will continue his world tour in Asia and Australia. So it will be about a month or two until we will meet again.

"I can't."

He hugs me tighter. "I'll miss you, baby."

"Me too."

.

.

.

 _"_ _Bella!"_

 _"_ _Right here!"_

 _"_ _You look gorgeous!"_

 _"_ _How's Edward?"_

 _"_ _Where is he?"_

 _"_ _Bella!"_

Click. Click. Click.

I shield my face with my hand to avoid being captured. The least I can do is making them take the worst shots. Since my relationship with Edward goes public, my privacy becomes less respected. Papz and their fucking camera flashes never leave me alone. Everywhere I go, their presence tails behind. But what I hate the most is when they start asking me inappropriate questions. Well, I know their intentions are to get my reaction, but still, how can you be proud of earning money from disturbing someone's life?

For the past month I busy myself in the studio, working for a new song for this movie soundtrack and some others for preparing my next album. Everything goes smoothly, thank God. I'm helped by many talented producers. It's such an honor to work together with people who have big names in the music industry.

Doesn't stop there, every week I have meetings with some business companies. I don't know how Alice does this but those big companies offer me a heck lot of money for the contracts. So I sign them all. Became the new face of this fashion brand, collaborated with that cosmetic line, shot for all those magazine covers, etcetera. This is a great year for me.

I keep in touch with Edward. He unbelievably calls and texts. The man has really changed. He's sweet. He shows me that he really cares. I can't wait to meet him in May. I even count the days, marking the calendar. We're planning a summer vacation together. Somewhere in Greece or Italy he says. It's going to be perfect. I know it.

But.

It's not.

And this is why I hate him so much.

He makes me expect more. False hopes.

And when I begin to trust him again, he must break it. Prove me that I'm wrong.

And he hurts me painfully worse than the last time he did it.


	9. Chapter 9

Guys! I'm so sorry it takes so long :( I have been so busy lately and this story is so special and a bit hard to write. I need to be really, really gloomy so I can put the emotions in there. So please be patient with me.

Song by Billie Eilish.

* * *

 **Chapter 9 – Fantasy**

The feeling isn't new. Fresh like yesterday, my brain has it memorized. That doesn't mean it will go less painful than before, though. Hell, my wounds haven't healed completely yet he has to stomp over them without guilt. Imagine how it feels.

I ask myself for millionth times.

How can I place myself in this position again?

This is not me giving him a chance. This is me letting him in only to walk away through another door. And I am left on the same spot, collecting the remaining pieces of my heart.

I am such a fool. We all know he will always run with the same mistakes. We all know I deserve better.

I ignore his texts and calls, thinking if there's really anything to explain. The media goes crazy, talking about his infidelity, spreading even more pictures, and adding some rumors. It hurts me just like old times. The difference is fame makes it bitterer.

Life doesn't pause long enough for me. Shades on, hurry steps, in and out the studio, everyday shielding the blitz of their cameras and closing ears of those stupid questions.

 _Do you know the girl?_

Yes. Her name is Emilia. I met her once.

 _How are you feeling right now?_

Fine.

 _Do you still love him?_

Do I?

 _Bella!_

 _Bella!_

May comes, but he never returns. Going straight to Caribbean Island and partying with throng of girls I've never met before. While I'm here, handling the mess alone.

It's okay. I get used to it.

Yeah, I'm okay.

I should be okay.

.

.

.

I'm off to London, then Paris. Singing on stage, forcing smiles to my fans. Convincing myself I don't need a break from this shit. Even though God knows I'm dying inside. Alice is worried. I can see it in her eyes. But every time she asks, I will lie through my teeth, insisting I'm fine until she gives up and lets me be.

Jasper calls. I never answer.

He texts me, asking when I'm back in town. I don't reply.

I hang out with new crowd, new famous people. They show me how they conceal their depressing lives behind parties and xanax. We share fake friendliness and enthusiasm, and of course, the same pity. Hitting clubs in Ibiza night after night, searching something we can't ever find. Papz are still prying and I don't have a choice but giving them wide smile and cool composure. Yeah, as if my life isn't miserable enough.

London to Paris, Ibiza to Myokonos.

I befriend with many people as I go. It's weird how I choose to be around strangers than my family back in New York. But, really, it's more comfortable to fake emotions when you're with new people.

I party hard. Drink a lot. And start to smoke again.

This is unhealthy, I know. I'm thinking too much. I'm feeling too much. The pressure. Being famous is kinda stressful. So I do what I think will help. Even just a tiny bit.

But of course, life has a funny way to give me a wake-up call. When I am in the messiest condition, God sends me an angel to collect my remaining pieces. Jasper comes for me. Here, in Mykonos. Here, to my hotel door. Imagine my surprise. After months not meeting each other.

I think it's around nine in the morning, when I'm still so far from consciousness in this new reverse sleep time. Olympia, my new Greek friend slash socialite slash model slash crazy woman, barges into my room, trying to shake me off from my sleep, saying something about handsome guy in the doorstep. At this point, I just mumble incoherently. But when she says something about letting him in and informs me about my nakedness, I'm fully awake. And that's when Jasper really comes in and I cover the crucial parts of my body at last minute. Olympia laughs all the way out.

But Jasper isn't looking at me. He's looking around, to the empty bottles on the floor which I'm too lazy to throw away. This is such a disaster.

"Hi." I greet awkwardly while trying to tame my tangled hair.

"Long night?" he asks straight-forwardly, looking at me with concern. I hate this shit.

"Why are you here?" I snap abruptly. Angry that he feels like he has the right to come here. Jasper doesn't answer right away. His gaze softens and suddenly I wanna run to him. "Did Alice send you?" I ask bitterly.

"No." He replies without missing a beat. "I come here because I'm worried."

I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, thank you."

"Damn it, Bella, don't be like this."

"Like what?"

"This." He gestures to the bottles on floor and the mess in my room. He seems angry and frustrated. And his raised voice makes my head throb. "Let's come home with me."

"Don't worry about me. I'm totally fine. I have survived many times before, Jasper."

"Till when? This cycle is not gonna stop, Bella. Please, don't let him do this to you again." He says. Like he knows everything already. Either it's Alice or Rose.

"You should mind your own business."

"Yeah, who am I, though, right?" his voice is thick of sarcasm and disappointment. Makes feel guilty to welcome him coldly when he shows me he cares.

"It's not like that, Jasper. I just—I just don't want you to waste your time, coming to me only to collect my fall, helping me get through this shit and stuff. This is unfair for you."

"I don't want to see you hurt. This is the least I can do." He says with a small smile.

.

.

.

It turns out I give up because Jasper is really a stubborn man. He stays even though I keep hurting him. He stays until I say yes. To stop this new party life. To stop drinking and smoking. But I tell him I'm not ready to go back to New York. To face even more spotlight and drama. No, not yet. Somehow he understands and offers me to stay in his family estate in Lake Como. And yeah, he comes with me.

The house is huge and so freaking beautiful. I know I'll love it here. It has an equipped studio and of course, Jasper wastes no time to continue his work here. My new album, _Flares_ , is due to November. And Carlisle wants Jasper to give it the final touch. So yeah, that's what he is doing right now. It's all set and ready, actually. I've even done all the photoshoots for this album and the first single, _Hypnotic_ , will be dropped in the middle of June. But of course, unless it reaches his level of perfection, he won't sit back and relax. The man is so hard to please. Thank God, Carlisle gives him a deadline because if not I'm sure the date of the release will be pushed back till next year.

"Dinner?" I approach him one time when I know he's not gonna come into the kitchen. Just like any other night. And it's already eight thirty.

He glances slightly. "Yeah, thank you. You don't have to do this, you know."

I roll my eyes, then put the plate on the table. "You're taking this too seriously. Please, eat first." I insist.

He sighs and gets up from his chair. "Okay."

I take his seat, looking through the songs he's been working.

"Have you listened to _Ocean Eyes_?" I ask all of a sudden. Eyes are still glued to the laptop. He pauses for a moment before replying.

"Multiple times. Is that—"

I click play and the song fills the silence in the room. I'm stunned listening the parts he has edited. And I love how he changes it to this new slower and deeper intro, intensifying the feeling I have put in. Yeah, ballad song, the world knows it's his expertise.

 _No fair_

 _You really know how to make me cry when you gimme those ocean eyes_

 _I'm scared_

 _I've never fallen from quite this high_

 _Falling into those ocean eyes_

 _Your ocean eyes_

We suck breath at the same time the moment it comes to the chorus. I turn around slowly to watch his reaction. And yes, he's watching mine too.

"Is that—"

"About you." I finish his sentence, confirming his guess.

.

.

.

June comes. Sooner or later I need to get back to New York so I do. Because in the end we have to face our real life. In my case, the papz and rumors. I and Jasper take different flights. It's the best if we are not seen together. That'll only provoke even more gossips and complicate everything. I don't want to drag him into this shit.

JFK is fully packed with papz even though it's two in the morning. I'm wearing skinny jeans, a loose fitting band tee, a pair of boots, and of course, aviator sunglasses. They go crazy when they finally see me. Clicking the cameras and throwing some leading questions.

 _Bella!_

 _How are you feeling?_

 _Have you talked to Edward?_

 _Are you mad at him?_

 _Bella!_

 _Bella!_

These are the common questions everything I go to the public place. They ask and I never answer, hoping they'll get bored and stop following me.

The day I wait finally comes. The audio version of Hypnotic is released on my YouTube channel on thirteenth, followed by the music video a week later. It's well received by music critics and overall has a good reception, hitting thirtieth on Billboard Hot 100 in the third week since it's released.

Gossips get more wicked than before, accusing me to take advantage of my relationship with Edward, using his big name so my new album will be a hit. Yeah, whatever. I don't fucking care anymore. They only see what they want to see.

Jasper visits me often. I don't ask if he has business here in New York, seeing how many times he goes back and forth between LA and NY, afraid he will say no.

We usually have dinner together at my apartment because we're too lazy to dress up and face the papz. At the end of the night, I always ask him if he will stay. And it's always the same answer. _No, I think I'll stay at Rosalie's_. I don't know either he's just being polite or he just can sense my formality. I'm an evil, I know. I feel bad for him.

Today is like any other night. We have dinner, watch television and stuff. You know, the usual. That, before the actual unexpected disaster happens. I start having a bad feeling when I hear the sound of door being opened. I think Jasper can feel it too because all of a sudden he seems prepared and calculated.

My nightmare comes true. It's definitely him. Standing across the room, surprised to see I have a company.

We fall into a silent shock for a few seconds before the shit hits the fan.

Their eyes are assessing each other. The room is so full of hatred. God, the situation is so uncomfortable.

"What are you doing here?" Edward spits the venom, taking steps further into the room. Fury is obvious on his face. Focusing the anger toward Jasper. I get up from the couch before he really reaches him. He's irate.

"Stop it." I say.

Jasper stands from his seat, making me situated between them.

"You have no shame showing up here." He replies instead.

Edward narrows his eyes. Passing through me until he's right in front of Jasper.

"It's not your fucking business."

"When it comes to her, it is."

Then the hell breaks loose. Edward punches his jaw. And Jasper returns it right away. Shit, I can't believe this is actually happening, here at my apartment. I go over them, trying my best to separate them from each other. "Stop it, you two!" I yell. But they're not listening, busy throwing punches because now they're possessed by hate and jealousy. "Stop it or I'll call the police!"

This finally gets their attention. So I use the opportunity to come between them, pushing each of them to the opposite direction.

It's almost an instinct I first turn to Edward to inspect the bruises on his face. Which I, of course, regret it immediately.

 _Damn it, Bella. After all this time, you still care for him._

I fix my mistake, turning to Jasper and ask him instead. "Are you alright?" I hurt him enough. I don't need Edward to add more damages.

I hate to see his face light up. I hate to see that he's unaware I'll break him again.

He nods. Warm when I'm cold.

The moment he feels it, his expression changes.

"I need to talk to him, Jasper." He knows what it means. What I choose. And I hate to say it out loud.

"I won't—"

I cut him off, begging him not to fight my decision. "Please."

He looks wounded. And frustrated. Probably questioning my sanity in his head.

When he realizes I won't change my decision, he gives up. Thinking about the consequences. Thinking about the possibility it would turn out like this.

He looks away. Doesn't say anything as he makes his way to the door.

It's slammed harder than necessary and we all know why.

.

.

.

We're sitting so far from each other because I need to keep the distance.

No one says anything after Jasper made his exit and I don't plan to start the conversation.

"I missed you." He says after a long uncomfortable silence. But I'm indifferent. This is tiring. This cycle. The emotions. I'm silent. He sighs, calming himself before asking. "Are you two serious?"

"None of your business."

"I know I fucked up, baby. Give me a chance."

"How many more?"

* * *

 **Love ya! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 _"I know I fucked up, baby. Give me a chance."_

 _"How many more?"_

If you think it will shut him off, you're completely wrong. One thing that won't change: he never gives up until he gets what he wants. The guy is determined. Shameless even. He moves closer. I keep my face straight. He touches me. I melt.

Same effect every fucking time.

"Baby…" He pleads, kissing the back of my hand with that busted lip of his.

"We can't do this forever, Edward." I sigh.

"One last time, I promise." He said that before. I'm skeptical and he knows it. "Please, baby, I need you for fucks sake."

"It's the best if we focus on our career—"

"Bullshit."

"No, Edward. It's time for us to fucking move on!"

"Fuck that. Move in with me."

Did I hear him right?

"What?" I look at him as if he is insane. He shrugs.

"Move in with me. In LA. We'll figure this out. Together."

"It's a fucking bad idea." I respond coldly, getting up and pacing back and forth in my living room. He isn't serious. He's just being a sweet talker right now because I refuse him.

"It's not." Those eyes never leave mine. "What are you afraid of?"

It's you. I'm afraid you will break me again.

"I can't be with you. Not anymore." I say, looking at him in the eye. He doesn't take it well, of course.

"Why? Is that because of that guy?" he yells. "Are you two in relationship or something?"

No, we are not. But he doesn't need to know that.

"Oh, come on, baby, the world knows you don't have any feelings toward him. Even blind man can see it." He says confidently.

"Time can change that."

Those emeralds darken.

"No, I won't let that happen."

"Get out of my apartment." I reply instantly. Which a part of me kinda regrets. While the other part applauds me in the background.

"Doesn't stop me from getting back in." He challenges, raising an eyebrow.

"Then I'll fucking sell this and buy a new one." I bite back.

"No, you won't." He shakes his head. Seems like the idea kinda terrifies him.

"I will if you don't leave now."

My threat works because after a contemplative silence he gets up.

"I'll come back, you know that."

.

.

.

Jasper never answers my calls. It's funny how the situation is twisted.

I try to get a hold of him like crazy, even contacting Rose who is now busy with fashion weeks.

She says he just needs time. She says he's a forgiver. She says he will never leave me.

Damn right I'm an evil.

For a month, I busy making public appearances. Alice idea, of course. She wants me to be known more that Edward Masen ex-girlfriend. I come to many events. Galas, award ceremonies, philanthropy things. I'm fast become America's sweetheart.

Edward drops his single around early August which makes even more speculations about our brief date and dramatic break-up. Media says it's just a publicity stunt. Well, they can fuck themselves for all I care.

To make everything worse, he has to say something about me when interviewed by GQ for his cover shoot. I don't know if he's just being honest or manipulative. I don't know if he wants to restart the same game or start a new one. I don't know what his real intention is. And I don't wanna know. I don't wanna know about him anymore.

 _So, people assume your new single 'Please Don't Go' is about your recent break-up with Bella. Is that true?_

 _Well, to be honest, my songs are mostly about her._

 _In this new album?_

 _No, in all albums. I think a lot of my inspiration comes from her._

 _You've known each other for long?_

 _Yeah, actually. Before the fame and shit. We've been friends for years. It's…complicated._

 _Friends who dated?_

 _On and off._

 _And how's it going right now? I mean, the break-up seems pretty bad._

 _Yeah, I fucked up. But people make mistakes, you know._

 _Do you still love her?_

 _I don't think I'm gonna stop._

.

.

.

Jasper finally returns my calls. He says that he just needed time to clear his mind and now we're good. He seems sincere when he says it, making me hate myself more.

VMA is on the late August. This year it's held at Madison Square Garden, New York. And the good news is I'm nominated as _Best New Artist_. So freaking excited.

I'm dressed in black, posing here and there on red carpet. Since _that_ interview, the attention is totally back on me again. Yeah, seems like my attempts to be out of his shadows are meaningless.

The event goes pretty smoothly. No sight of Edward anywhere near the venue and I won my first nomination. Perfect.

When it comes to after party, my dress is shorter and my heels are higher. Yeah, now I'm best friends with high-heels, thanks to Alice.

I sip my cocktail quietly, just relaxed and enjoying the music when someone takes a seat next to me. I glance. He stares instead. I know him, of course. One of the successful rappers in music industry right now, but also known by his bad reputation: Jake Black.

"Hey, mind if I join you?" he asks after a beat of silence, unbelievably polite while throwing me a lopsided grin. Such a charmer.

"No, not at all."

"You're alone?" he questions. Something that he already knows the answer.

"Yeah, are you?" I ask back. I saw him bring his date earlier.

"Kinda. I ditched my date." The guy shrugs nonchalantly.

Oh, and you have no problem admit it to me?

"How mean." I comment.

"She'll understand."

I look around. "She won't come after me, right?"

He laughs. "You're so cute."

.

.

.

Jake asks me out. Which I, of course, decline. But he's persistent. And I like how he's always being straightforward and unfiltered. So I finally give it a try. Yeah, because why not, right? He's cool and good looking. And he probably can take my mind off Edward and his new drama.

We have dinner at some fancy restaurant. He's wearing some bad ass leather jacket and ripped jeans, making me feel overdressed with this double layer jumpsuit. The meal is so delicious, one of the best in town. We sip our wine, talking about almost everything. I'm surprised he's not as annoying as he looks. Hell, I may think he's kinda funny.

"Has being famous bored you out?" I ask curiously.

"No. I think I love it." He replies without a doubt.

"Ah, you love the attention."

"Nah. I love being rich and surrounded by hot girls." I make a face. He chuckles. "What? I'm just being honest."

"Of course." I mock.

"Do you like me, Bells?" he asks all of sudden with that half-serious expression of his.

I smirk. "Sort of."

"Good. Because I think I like you a lot."

.

.

.

One date turns into two, three, and often. Then the next thing I know media makes assumption that we're dating. The gossips circulate like crazy, but I don't think Jake put so much thought about it. We hang out a lot. Meeting new people, new circle. His friends, his crew. It's easy being with him. Just doing fun things together. Nothing serious. No feelings involved.

For a moment, I begin to hope again. Hope for a fresh start.

Hope I finally can erase him from my mind.

 **EPOV**

My thumb can't keep scrolling through this shitty gossip website. I don't know when it starts, but now it becomes a whole new fucking routine to me. This shit is addicting. Knowing where she has been and who she's with. Jake Black. That piece of shit. Reading it makes my head boil. How in the hell they are together right now?

Damn it. Of course it's my fault.

My babygirl is innocent. Oblivious, even.

Never realizes she has had my heart since the very first time we met. My silly babygirl.

She always says something about me playing the games. And I let her believe whatever she wants to fucking believe. It's easier this way. Especially when you already get bad reputation. Well, fuck, she doesn't know in reality I'm dying every time I see the hurt in those beautiful eyes.

I love her thoroughly for fucks sake, how can she not see that? It's not just about sex. Never has been. Believe me, pussy is easy to get here. I can have it all the way I want, as many as I want. But I'm looking for more.

I know I'll make a shitty boyfriend. I know I never stay. Come and go, she says. Part of my games, she says.

She's tired of it. But I am too.

I'm scared as fuck. I'm scared every fucking time I'm with her. Scared that I'll never be good enough. Scared I'll lose her someday to a better man. Scared that she'll realize she's capable to break me.

The greater my feelings, the more I'm thinking. And I'll fuck up every time I over think. I will flee, running away from the problems, convincing myself that our relationship never works. I will start doing anything to forget her, partying and fucking around. Only to regret it after. Because at the end of the day, I know all my attempts are useless. It's only her I can think of. Only her I'll go back to. A sick cycle.

I'm an asshole, the world knows that. She knows that. But she always welcomes me when I run to her. Even with those puffy and sad eyes. The sight that always breaks my heart. She makes me want to change. To become a better man. I swear to God, I want. She deserves more that I can give. But it's so fucking hard. Believe me, I've tried.

It turns out the same.

.

.

.

September, thirteenth. Our fifth September thirteenth. If we're together at all. I spend the day thinking of her, drinking alone in the crowded place. Just ignoring everybody that wants to get close. Such a special day. I'm all blue only for her birthday. And as soon as it's over, I go back to my house, sleeping with the gifts I never give her.

.

.

.

 _I miss you_.

 _I miss you._

 _I miss you._

But being an asshole I am, I text her instead. _Stop doing it. You know he'll never replace me_.

.

.

.

"What do you mean you're not going?" Peter yells. Our conversation always turns out like this these days. He says I'm being difficult. I just need a break. But God forbids I do that too. Well, screw him and Aro. They can make money themselves.

"I'm not in the mood for this shit." I reply.

"What's so hard about it? You just need to sit the fuck down and promote your new album!" he says. Like it's easy. He never knows what it feels like to be asked about your own privacy.

"You know I'm not a television person. Just cancel it."

Besides, I've made much money for the company already. I'm sure my album will still be a hit without doing these stuffs.

"Fine. Whatever. Just do what the fuck you want."

.

.

.

When the feelings become too much, I fly to New York. Because I need to see her. I have to see my baby. It's two a.m. when I arrive and her apartment is empty. Does she stay at the jerk's place? The thought of him touching her makes me angry. But again, I'm a sinner myself.

I sleep on her bed, taking all her scents. It's so cold and lonely without her here. I wonder if she feels it too when I'm not around.

 _Come home_. I can't help but texting her.

She doesn't reply but I know she reads it.

She's home at nine in the morning. I can smell coffee from the kitchen. Getting up, I make a way out of the bedroom only to find her slim figure standing by the window. We're alone, thank God. The last thing I need is the dog is tagging along.

"I never understand you, Edward." She sighs. The voice sounds so tired. It's like she wants to quit but she can't. Just like me. We're falling too deep. I wait as she turns around to face me. That beautiful face is now covered by sadness. I'm lost in her eyes.

"You don't have to." I say, approaching her. She laughs bitterly, clueless that I yearn of her touch so much.

"Of course. Anything is easy with you." She replies sarcastically.

I caress her cheek with the back of hand. It's so soft and kissable, just like her lips. She leans in without thinking. It's an involuntary gesture.

"Do you love them?" I end up asking, anything to distract me from the thought of kissing her right now.

She knows well whom I talk about, but still asking, "Who?"

"Jasper, Jake. Do you love them?"

She looks away for a second before meeting my eyes. I already know the answer, though. I just want her to say it out loud. To herself.

"Oh, now you care?" her tone is acid. I don't blame her.

"Say it." I press even though she hates me so much already. "Say you love them and I'll leave now." I dare her. The thought of leaving her terrified me, but I need her to admit it. Even her eyes say no.

"I don't." She finally says quietly. I adore her honesty. I adore her kind heart. My baby is such a dream. "How about you? Do you love your girls?" the bitterness in her voice is obvious. Still, I can detect the sorrow there.

"You know I don't."

"Do you have any feeling at all, Edward?" there she goes again slapping me with words.

"What do you think?" I ask back, trying so hard to act indifferent while I'm hurting inside.

"Well, no, I think you're just an empty soul."

"Right." I say.

"So what's it all about? Why'd you keep coming back at me?" she asks, frustrated.

 _Because my love, baby, is too much to bear._

"I don't know." I reply instead.

 _I do know._

"Do you… do you love me?"

She looks so vulnerable and I hate to lie through my teeth. "I don't know."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **EPOV**

Unfamiliar arms wrap around me. So foreign. And cold. Those smiles make me cringe. And these touches make me want to lean away. I'm here but I'm not here. _She_ 's miles away, but _she_ 's everywhere.

I feel so fucking faded, yet _she_ is clear in my mind. Day and fucking night. Wake up by random girl and I'm thinking about _her_. _Her_ when I gulp my drink. Still _her_ when I pop these pills. Peter tells me to get my shit together. More prescription drugs, more tight schedules. Well, fuck him, right?

I'm high on stage. I vomit. I feel like I'm sick. And it's more than physically. My hardly-called home becomes a silent witness of my downfall, my breakdown. None of my drunk-texts are replied by her. Neither are my calls. It's just like she's erasing my existence. And I'm here, gripping her remaining pieces for whole life.

How can you be so cold, baby? I cry inside.

Everyone says my love is toxic, but so what? No one can love her like I do. This is what real love is. It won't be happiness and sunshine all along. Love is about storm and survive. Not many people understand it. So I'm okay with everyone judging my asshole moves. Have been so long in this industry, the pressure does nothing to me now.

"You look so down lately." Despite of my mood, I grin at her. Bruna was the girl I met in Brazil two weeks ago. Always so fucking sexy to look at. Tempting when she needs to be. She's just a perfect distraction.

"Do I?" I quirk my eyebrow and she sits on my lap casually.

"What's on your mind?" she asks. Sexy but so fucking noisy. I really hate the girl who talks too much.

"Nothing." I reply flatly. But she doesn't get the clue.

"You can tell me, you know." Oh, so you have a story to sell, huh? No, thank you. Been there, done that. I've learned from my mistakes. Besides, I'm just with her for like, what, a week, and now she feels like she has the right asking me questions?

"There's nothing to tell." I sigh, calming my temper. She has to fucking test it, though. Her next words send me to the edge of my patience.

"Is it about Bella?"

"What do you want, Bruna?" I ask her with the best nice tone I can utter.

"Well, I just think you shouldn't be thinking about someone else when you're with me." She replies. Arms are crossed over her chest. Is she serious?

I laugh humorlessly, shaking my head in disbelief. "I don't have time for this shit. Get out of here."

I wonder why she looks so surprised.

"What? What are you…" Then she inhales deeply, trying to gain her composure. "Okay, fine. I'm sorry if I annoy you. Maybe we'll talk again later when your mood isn't this bad."

"No. Pack your bags."

"W-what?"

.

.

.

"Answer the damn phone! Answer the damn phone!" I mumble angrily, pressing her number over and over again. Still nothing. I know so well that she just chooses not to answer. Every single day I feel like I'm losing her more and more. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I throw my phone across the room. The sound is deafening in this quiet room.

Emmett chooses to show up in the doorway. "Are you okay?"

"Why did she not answer my fucking calls?!" I practically snap at him. Anger overtakes me. It's all her fault I'm such a mess.

"Maybe she's busy. She's on tour too." He replies calmly. This scene is usual for him.

"No. She's just ignoring me, I know it." I say bitterly, grabbing my hair in frustration. "And she's still with the fucker. How can she do this to me?"

Emmett looks at me like the reason is obvious. But I'm glad he decides to keep his mouth shut.

"Book me a flight to New York."

He sighs. "She's not there. She's on tour right now."

"So what? I'll fucking wait for her. As usual."

"Peter won't allow that. Your show is in three days." He says. I narrow my eyes at him even though what he says is true. Peter will kill me for that, but right now, of course I don't care.

"I'll talk to him." I decide, grabbing my jacket from the couch and ready to go. Bu this man is intentionally blocking the doorway.

"She has a show in San Francisco tomorrow." He informs me all of a sudden. His expression is a mix of tired and giving up. "I'll find the ticket if you want."

.

.

.

She's so hot on stage wearing a sheer nude shirtdress over a sexy designer-brand bodysuit. Her pumps are high, but she's walking on it like it's nothing. Her brown hair is tied in stylish bun and her makeup is natural. My girl is stunning.

Her smile is so wide when she hears a tremendous cheer from this crowd. Her loyal fans. I'm looking at her, proud and longing. Happy that she has made it this far. She totally deserves this success.

" _The next song is about quitting_." She says. I catch how sadness clouds her face briefly. " _You know, when you keep getting hurt and you finally see it's not going to work anymore? Yeah, it's about that_."

About _us_. As always.

She takes a position at the center of the stage, clasping both hands around her mic, unaware I'm watching every move, every reaction she makes. The music begins and the crowd screams even louder as she sings.

" _Cut me through my skin, through the heart, yeah you went right in. I fell for every word you said._ "

 _"_ _I can't leave but I can't stay. I don't know, I don't know, I don't know. Why some things have to be this way."_

 _"_ _We built it up to break it down. Then we're lost until we're found. And we're high further from the crown."_

 _"_ _If all is fair in love and war I can't do this anymore. So unfair. So unfair. So unfair to me."_

Everyone is stunned, just like me. As if we can really feel her pain.

.

.

.

"What are you doing here?!" Alice almost looks shocked as I make my way to the staff-only area. Hatred is radiated from her body like a wave.

"Where is she?" I ask her instead, searching the door with her name on it.

"Get the fuck out. She doesn't want to see you anymore." She replies, preventing me to go further. I ignore her. Besides, her tiny body isn't enough to block my way. "Hey, what are you doing?! Do your fucking job! Drag him out of here!" she snaps to some bodyguards who are just standing not far from us. They did nothing, of course, because no one dares to touch me if Emmett is by my side.

"Look _, tiny_ , you should really mind your fucking business, you know." I say, making her even angrier. When she looks like she's ready to freaking smack me, Bella is out of her hidden place.

"Let him, Al." She says. Eyes are avoiding me.

"But, Bella—"

"It's okay." She cuts in.

I smirk at Alice as I pass her, before following Bella to her dressing room. The door is closed behind me and now I face the t-shirt and converse girl I fall in love with. My girl is standing so far away, creating the distance she knows I hate so much.

"Your show was amazing."

She looks surprised for a second. "Oh, you were watching?" I nod. "Why?" she asks again. As if this thing is confusing.

"You've been ignoring my calls." I point out. But her expression is indifferent.

"Yeah, what about that?" I raise my eyebrow at her words. She says this like it's nothing. And I admit it hurts a little.

"Oh, right, what about that?" I repeat it mockingly.

"I'm tired, Edward." She sighs all of a sudden, ending our fight before it really begins. I'm torn between confronting her and letting it go. Thank God, the sanest part of me wins.

"Right. I should let you get some rest."

"Maybe we can talk tomorrow." She says. But even I can tell that it's not a promise.

"Can I come with you?"

Her reply is quick, but expected. "No."

"Come to my show then. We'll talk after that."

.

.

.

 **BPOV**

I can't believe I actually come here. When Emmett gave me the ticket of his concert two days ago, I was tempted to throw it to the trash can. Now I regret I didn't really do that. I'm dressed in short black dress and white stilettos. These stuffs are brand new in my closet, thanks to Alice. So I think they will do.

Last night, Edward uploaded a throwback picture of us kissing to his Instagram which of course, has caused a stir in social media. The gossip is always back and forth between us. Classic. As much as I want to avoid it, the media will always relate me to him. I don't know why.

I sit in my row, unfocusedly watching him singing for the crowd. I'm thinking about my regret for coming here when his voice pulls me from my musings. He really has a voice like an angel. And the deep meaning behind this song makes me want to wrap my arms around him and forgive all of his mistakes. Edward is always good with playing words.

 _"_ _But I'm not just a fuck-up, I'm the fuck-up you need. I don't hear nobody when you focus on me. Perfectly imperfect, yeah, I hope that you see."_

 _"_ _Don't leave. Shut your mind off and let your heart breathe. You don't need to be worried. I may not ever get my shit together. But ain't no body gonna love you better than me."_

 _"_ _Don't go. What we have here is irreplaceable_ _. No, I won't trade this for nothing. I may not ever get my shit together. But ain't nobody gonna love you better than me."_

After the show is over, I go to the backstage, avoiding the cameras as best as I can. Some of his staffs glance at me curiously, but I keep going. That is, until I bump into someone. It's Peter.

"Bella?"

Of course he's surprised.

"Hey, Peter, how are you?" I greet him lamely.

"I'm fine, thank you. How about you? I don't know you're coming."

"I'm good." I force a smile. This is very awkward. "Yeah, it's kinda…unplanned, actually. Umm…have you seen Edward?"

"He's in the dressing room. There, two doors from here."

"Right, thanks. Well, I gotta go."

"My pleasure." He says.

I walk to the direction he gave me and stop when I find the door with Masen written on it. Well, what now? Shall I knock? Or can I just enter? Damn it, why am I so fucking nervous? He's the one who wants to talk to me.

I calm myself for a minute before going straight to open the door.

"Emmett, I told you not to fucking disturb me." His tone is so annoyed.

I find him lying on the couch with eyes closed, wearing only basketball shorts. His messy hair is damp from the shower.

"Oh, should I go?"

"Baby?" His eyes are open immediately. And I pretend I didn't hear what he just called me. "I can't believe you come." He rises up to a sitting position while I let myself in to the room.

"Well, you said you wanted to talk." I reply.

"Yeah, kind of. I don't know." His hand runs over his hair. He doesn't look so sure about it.

I narrow my eyes. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"Shit, no, I mean I know but…" he sighs deeply. "Look, can you sit for a minute? Stop being so far away." His sweet words are the most dangerous ones. I choose to sit on the chair, still wanting to keep the distance. He doesn't look happy. "Have you eaten? Want me to order something for you?"

"No, I'm good."

"Okay…"

"I have to go back to my hotel shortly." I tell him, urging to hurry.

"Right. I'm told you'll fly to New York tomorrow." He says in disappointment. I keep my face straight. "Are you still with him?"

"Who? Jake? We're friends."

"Yeah, of course." He snorts, looking at me like I'm the one who's crazy.

"Oh, so I can't be friends with anyone?" I want to yell at him, but I keep my tone down instead. This fight is useless.

"It's not like that. It's just…he's no good for you, baby."

"And you are?" I ask bitterly.

"No. I'm not." He admits, ashamed. "I just…I care for you, okay?"

I can't help but laugh at that. "And you don't, Edward. You just care about yourself."

"You don't fucking understand." He spits out venomously.

"Well, enlighten me then."

"Can we not fight for a second? This is exhausting." He inhales.

"I don't know what you want, Edward. You can't expect me to stay when you're leaving. It's just…unfair to me."

"I'm sorry, baby." He pleads, taking my hand in his. I let him. Because I know he knows his apology doesn't change anything. This is the last thing he can do. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I promise. Please. Forgive me."

Those eyes are killing me, but I try not to fall for it. "I have to go."

"Don't do this to me, baby." He begs sadly. "Please. I love you."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 _"_ _Don't do this to me, baby." He begs sadly. "Please. I love you."_

He says it. He finally says it. In the worst fucking moment. When I have made up my mind about our hardly-called relationship and don't want to look back…he has to test it. I avert my gaze from his sincere eyes, but his hold on my hand tightens. Wordlessly telling me that he won't let go. He can't let go.

"You can't. You can't say it now, Edward." I say. It comes out weak and pathetic. But it's enough to tell him that I have quitted. That this is too late.

"I have loved you for forever, Bella." He confesses. Like it's his dark secret and he hesitates to admit it. Like it's too much to say. I look up into those emeralds, the misery in there. Why? Why now? After everything I have been through…every pain he has caused. I'm already broken. And it's just too late to fix.

"Can't. I…I can't. Don't do this." I break his bravery. It's stronger that I think will be. I'm watching his hope vanishes and his confidence fades. The hurt in his face I keep glancing away from.

"Baby, please…" he pleads. It sounds like a promise. Like a fresh start of something new. But I'm tired. I can't look back forever. _We_ can't look back forever.

"No, Edward. It's…it's just not right." I reply.

"What do I have to do?" he inquires.

"Nothing. We just…we can't do this anymore. I can't. It's…I'm not ready." I say.

"I'll wait."

"Don't. I'm closing our book right now."

.

.

.

I snuggle closer into his board chest, breathing in the scent that I have been accustomed to. He smells like fresh breeze and ocean, sweet and romantic. I like it. His lips lingers at the top of my head as those arms warm my body from the chill air. This is safe and comfortable. He eases my mind like no other. And I don't feel guilty like I did to Jasper. Maybe because this thing between us isn't serious. Or maybe because I am an evil.

"Move to my place." He says. We have had this conversation for a hundredth times already, but he never gives up despite of my rejection.

I look up, grazing his cheek with my finger. It has been five months since the first time we met, yet I'm still scared to open up. He is always casual and cool like that. Sometimes I don't know whether he's being serious or not.

"My apartment is big enough for us." He adds, leaning in until our faces are just inches away. I chuckle against his lips.

"I know, Jake."

"Is it because of him?" he finally asks. No accusation. No anger or jealousy. No. He's just simply curious.

The other day he scrolled through Edward's Instagram page because everyone was talking about the pictures of me that he posted. How one of them became the most liked photo and stuff. Jake wasn't triggered, of course. He was calm like an ocean. I bet he's cool with everything.

The drama began when Jake posted the candid photo of me on his Instagram and Edward had the fucking nerve to comment ' _beautiful_ '. Thinking it was just disrespectful for him, Jake replied it coolly with ' _she is. and happy_ '. Well, Edward definitely took if offensively. He mentioned him ' _haha if only you know_ '. Thank God, Jake wasn't provoked and left it at that.

Since that drama the media constantly says that our relationship is in turmoil because of Edward while honestly we are doing just fine. It's kinda tiring being famous, you know.

"What about him?" I ask back. Impassive. I'm too good at this. It's my everyday mask.

"He clearly wants you back."

"I don't care." Liar. I'm a convincing liar.

He raises an eyebrow then grins. My heart sinks a little. "Good to hear." He pecks the tip of my nose. "So…still no?"

.

.

.

It's been months since the last time I saw _him_. But if you think time can make you forget, you're wrong. I don't know what about him I love so much. I don't know how and why I still want him after everything he has done. I have left him, now what? Am I happy? Truly? Is this better? People say me and Jake are perfect match. Power couple. You know, some high profile relationship shit. As if it's important. Personally, I don't give a shit, but most people do because we look so good on paper. No one really cares what I'm feeling inside. Do I feel better?

My album is another huge success. My concerts were sold out. My net worth adds up. Magazine covers, hot parties' guest list, award shows' front row, I fast become the nation's sweetheart. They dub me famous, kind, young, and pretty face. But some also say manipulative, ungrateful, and social-climbing.

But I don't mind.

I don't care.

Because somehow I don't feel anything anymore.

My smile dims, but no one notices. The club is well packed and Jake seems occupied by his friends. We can't miss a must-attend birthday party. Jake kinda hesitates at first because he knows I hate the spotlight we'll bring, but all his friends will be here. So yeah, it's just not the right time to be selfish.

I kiss his cheek, smiling, telling I'll be right back. He nods, doesn't sense the fakeness. I go straight to the bar, ordering a drink. I need it. I need to stay sane throughout the night. I can't not enjoy this party. More importantly, I can't be crumbling here.

When I think I can grip myself together, I see _him_.

And I swear to God it's not just my imagination.

It's Edward.

He and his crowd.

Out of all the places, we have to meet here. With Jake in the same room. God has a sense of humor. A part of me hopes he won't acknowledge me. Not because I want him to, but because it's easier that way. Being strangers.

I finish my drink and order another. Because I need to drown my sorrow. To forget about him and the emptiness that begins to resurface. It's a lot harder than I thought.

I almost cry in silence like I always did almost every night.

I almost want to run to him. To tell him I love him too. Now and always, yesterday and tomorrow.

Promise him we _can_ reopen our book.

A wrong arm wraps around my shoulder from behind, stopping my irrational thoughts. Lips on my hair. His body warms mine. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. I smile faintly, but he doesn't see. "You drink enough." Jake murmurs.

I hum, yet raise my glass and gulp the liquid to feel the burn down to my throat. Jake kisses my ear, isn't aware that my eyes have settled back to another man.

Edward is now staring from across the room.

Cold expression is masking the pain and the hurt.

My gaze doesn't waver and I slightly feel guilty inside. I'm no better than him. Or worse, I have become just like him. Haven't I?

"Let's get out of here." The words should be for him, but I tell Jake instead.

.

.

.

It's three a.m when the noisy ringing phone wakes me up. Cursing myself that I didn't put it in silence before I slept, I answer without glancing at the caller id. I thought it was Alice. But I'm wrong. It's _him_. Edward. I recognize the voice anywhere.

"Bella?"

Now I'm really awake. Of course, it's him. Who the hell calls in this godly hour if it's not him? It won't be the first time.

I'm only a second away to disconnect the call when he pleads. "Please, don't hang up."

I'm silent. I don't know what to say.

A sick part of me is hopeful. While the other is just tired.

"I'm sorry." He starts. And I think I hear it wrong for a second before he continues. "I'm sorry for the pain I put you through."

I can't help myself. My instant response is. "Are you drunk?" Because he has drunk-called me hundredth times already.

He laughs humorlessly.

"No, baby."

Now I'm worried.

"You're not driving, aren't you?"

"Why? You don't care anyway." That shuts me up immediately. His words sound so bitter I wince.

Silence. For a full minute.

"Is he with you now?" he questions all of a sudden. And I consider lying. But I don't.

"No."

He sighs. Relieved and just tired.

"Come back to me." He begs. Helpless. Like he knows it's impossible. It's surprising to see him this way. "I'm truly sorry, baby."

"It doesn't change anything." I shake my head. "It doesn't fix anything."

"I love you."

"I'm hurt still."

.

.

.

* * *

 **Hey I know it's short but yeah, better than nothing! :)**


End file.
